


Love is Certainly Magic

by quickpaint



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: AU, Angst, Blood, Brotherly Affection, Family, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic!Donald, Major Character Injury, Minor Violence, Platonic Affection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-05-27 08:17:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15020462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quickpaint/pseuds/quickpaint
Summary: Magic is a wonderful thing and magic is a dangerous thing. When Huey Duck becomes enthralled with the world of magic, he just might find out exactly how wonderful and dangerous it is. And maybe just how wonderful his family is and how far they may go to help and protect him.





	1. Magic This and Magic That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is exciting! And also my first work posted on here! I really, really hope people enjoy this!  
> This story is going to be mostly focused on Huey and Donald.   
> Anyway, please enjoy and tell me what you think!

Magic. Magic seemed to be coming up a lot lately. Huey, however, didn’t think it was real. At least not yet, he didn’t. Its existence wouldn’t necessarily surprise him, considering the things he’s seen. He’d think he would find it really interesting, something to read about and study.

Every time magic came up though, Uncle Scrooge would always say it was a “shortcut to success” and it wasn’t allowed in his home. And Uncle Donald would simply avoid the subject or make vague agreements about it.

When Huey would ask questions, or comment on how he thought it couldn’t possibly exist, either his questions would be avoided or he would be told it was better to not be involved in it. It was starting to get frustrating. He wanted to know, know if it was truly real, why Uncle Scrooge didn’t _like_ magic, he wanted to know as much as he could so he could reach _proper_ conclusions. So he wouldn’t be afraid of it when the time came that they would have to deal with it. Huey wasn’t scared of things he understood.

Today, he would change that. He would definitely get _somewhere_ in his pursuit of knowledge!

“Uncle Donald!” Huey calls, trotting up to his uncle, who had stopped dead at the end of the manor hall, “What are you doing?”

Uncle Donald smiles at him, patting him on the head, eyeing the notepad and pen clutched in Huey’s small hands, “Just heading out to the boat.”

“Is it alright if I go with you?” Huey asks, though he knows what Uncle Donald’s going to say.

“Of course, Huey. You don’t have to ask.” Uncle Donald laughs.

Soon the two were settled on the deck of the houseboat. The pool didn’t quite make it rock the way the ocean did and Huey kind of missed that. Of course, he preferred the manor and the adventures… But, sometimes he dearly missed the lull of the ocean, sleeping on the lower deck of the houseboat…

Huey shakes himself out of his thoughts and stares quietly at his notepad, fiddling nervously with his pen. Thinking of what he could ask first and he settles on the simplest one he can think of.

“Hey, Uncle Donald? Could you tell me about magic?” Huey asks, holding his breath as Uncle Donald gives a heavy sigh.

“Well…” Uncle Donald scratches the back of his head.

“Uncle Scrooge isn’t here! And _technically speaking_ … We’re not in the manor!” Huey adds, helpfully, giving his _best_ puppy dog eyes.

Uncle Donald sighs again and Huey knows he’s won, “Okay…”

Huey cheers, pumping a fist in the air, he starts talking a million miles per hour, “Whoohoo! Okay! What first? So many questions! Uhhhh…”

“Okay, okay, okay! Calm down first, Huey.” Uncle Donald holds up his hands, then reaches out to put his hands on Huey’s shoulders, “Now, you have to promise me something.”

“Yeah, Uncle Donald?”

“You have to promise me that you won’t tell your Uncle Scrooge any of this.”

“Of _course_ , Uncle Donald!”

“And–”

“And?” Huey leans forward curiously.

“And you have to promise not to use it, if possible.” Uncle Donald’s voice was serious, as was his face. “Unless you’re in serious danger.”

So many thoughts race through Huey’s head at that moment. A chill runs up his spine he can’t place. It was as if Uncle Donald was saying he was even capable of using magic. Was he? His brothers? Webby? Uncle Donald and Scrooge? Was just anyone capable of wielding magic?

Huey opens his beak to say something, then shuts it promptly. His notepad and pen were set forgotten on his lap and his hands were clenching and un-clenching, over and over. He was studying Uncle Donald’s face.

“Please, promise me.” Uncle Donald says, his voice cracking just a tiny bit, he squeezes Huey’s shoulders.

Huey blinks once, twice, “Of course, Uncle Donald.” He doesn’t know why, but he leans forward to hug his uncle, “I promise.”

Uncle Donald seemed like he needed it.

Uncle Donald smiles softly, almost sadly, “Thank you, Huey.”

Huey brightens, “Okay! What first…” He mulls it over for a moment, “Oh! Is it _real_?”

Uncle Donald chuckles, “Yes, Huey.”

That’s all the confirmation he needed! Huey jots it down, “MAGIC IS REAL!” written in big red letters, underlined three times. He’d add this to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook later!

“Okay, umm… Mmm…” Huey taps his pen against his cheek. “Can just _anyone_ use it?” Might as well ask that next.

“No.” Uncle Donald says, though he seems to regret answering it.

“ _No_?!” Huey bounces a bit in his lawn chair, oh, this was an exciting revelation! “Then, how does it work exactly?” He readies his pen to write whatever Uncle Donald has to say.

“Well… Well. It’s inherent. It’s… er… part of a bloodline, kind of.” Uncle Donald didn’t seem to know how to say it, he pauses for a long moment, Huey hadn’t quite jotted anything down yet, “I mean, some families have latent magical power, some stronger than others. Magic often has to be brought out through magical artifacts. And erm… some families have stronger magical power, though, and can just use it without any help.”

Huey nods, writing it down, mostly word for word, “So, then, can you use magic, Uncle Donald?”

“I… Well…” Uncle Donald goes somewhat rigid.

Huey leans close, “Can you?”

“Yeah…”

“Really?!” Huey shouts, forgetting to be quiet, Uncle Donald nods but puts a finger up to his beak, desperately shushing him. Huey continues shouting nonetheless, throwing his arms up in the air, “ _Get._ _O_ _ut_! That’s amazing, Uncle Donald!”

“Huey! Be quiet, remember?” Donald felt somewhat touched by Huey’s reaction, but he really had to be _quiet_.

Huey freezes, “Oh.” He stiffly puts his arms down, “Right. I’m sorry.”

Uncle Donald pats him on the head, “It’s okay…”

“I’m just so _excited_!” Huey clutches his pen and notepad to his chest, if he could spin in his chair he would. “Does… since you can use magic, does that mean the whole family can?”

Uncle Donald nods, “Yes, of course, but…”

“But?”

“But, the McDuck side has never really been a fan. And the… _our_ latent magical power can only be brought out by certain magical artifacts and some spell books.” Uncle Donald says, before adding, “Spell books aren’t the most agreeable, though, so I don’t recommend it.”

Uncle Donald seemed to be speaking from experience and Huey wondered in the back of his mind if the spell books not being agreeable simply had to do with his uncle’s notoriously bad luck. Huey would, however, take his word for it.

Under his note of “Uncle Donald can use magic! _HOW COOL IS THAT_?!” Huey writes down the fact that the McDucks’, for some reason, aren’t a fan of magic. Under that he jots down the tidbit about the artifacts and spell books. In small letters, he writes, “Uncle Scrooge doesn’t like or use magic, Uncle Donald is officially the coolest uncle.” Next to the note he draws his best rendition of his uncles, Uncle Scrooge looking grumpy and Uncle Donald looking proud and happy surrounded with stars. Huey laughs quietly to himself.

He looks up to find his uncle looking at him with a certain fondness that always brightened his mood whenever he saw it, Huey smiles.

“Okay, next question…!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donald is absolutely the coolest uncle. This is kinda short, but I have several chapters I'm getting ready to be posted! This is working off a lot of ideas I have in my head, but it obviously qualifies as an AU.  
> I like to think that Donald has some kind of authority over the JWG in Huey's mind. If Uncle Donald says it's true, it's probably true. Also, Huey's notes are kind of a first draft to him, so it's okay to doodle in them. He'll write a more professional, comprehensive version later.


	2. Here Comes a Camping Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes a camping trip~ ♪ I make no promises~ ♪

Huey was trailing behind his brothers, Webby, and Lena, going through his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. His mind was absolutely buzzing with excitement, they were going camping! He _loved_ camping! And of course, he was refreshing himself on camping safety precautions, camping activities, and other very important camping related things.

Dewey had stopped him early on from planning the entire thing out, though. In any case, Huey absolutely still had many, many ideas for what they could do on their camping trip and Dewey won’t be able to stop him!

Huey adjusts his backpack, Lena had insisted on two tents, which he agreed with. The tents were too small for more than three people. Dewey was carrying one tent while Huey had the other. Huey tucks the JWG away for a moment, rifling through his bag as he walks, making sure he had everything he had volunteered to carry. Once he was sure everything was accounted for, he slips his bag on back to it’s place on his back. Now for Dewey’s…

Up ahead, Huey sees Dewey point at a bird flying overhead, “Hey, was that some kind of...” He pauses, “...raven?”

Huey pulls out and flips quickly through the JWG, “Actually…!”

He starts and doesn’t stop. Huey launches himself into a long ramble about how that wasn’t a raven but in fact a very similar bird of the _corvid_ _ae_ family and how the bird Dewey saw was too _small_ and… Huey feels a horrible tightness begin in his chest as he walks and talks, eventually he stops dead in his tracks, his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook falling unceremoniously from his hands.

Soon, he couldn’t breathe, and he was gasping desperately for air. His hands come up to his chest, then to his throat. At some point, he doesn’t know when, he falls to his knees. Huey’s vision was becoming dark and tears prick at the corners of his eyes.

“Huey?!”

Huey could barely hear the shout of his name through the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. He could hardly register his younger brothers running up to him, putting their hands on his back, asking him what’s wrong. In the darkness, in the horrible encroaching darkness, he sees something. A shadow looming behind Webby, behind Lena. It’s red eyes and smiling mouth piercing the darkness. Huey’s eyes widen.

And suddenly, he could breathe again. Huey gasps, the air hitting his lungs felt good and burned all the same. Before anyone could ask him if he’s okay and before he can even say a word, everything goes pitch black.

 

Lena takes a step back as she watches Huey suddenly collapse to his knees and then collapse all together. Not without looking at her with complete and utter fear before he did. She shivers. Her mind was racing and she had a vague idea of what might’ve happened.

As the others attempt to revive poor Huey, Lena turns on her heel, “I’ll go get help!” she calls, taking off into the darkness.

Soon, she was a fair distance away and dives into the first secluded area she can find.

“What did you _do_?!” She demands, trying to quell her shaking form. She doesn’t jump when her shadowy aunt appears before her. Lena was pacing now.

“Whaaaat?” Magica drawls, chuckling evilly to herself.

Lena crosses her arms as she paces, “You know what.”

“Oh, calm down.” Magica waves a hand, “Who knows when that little red whelp was gonna shut up, I did you a favor. The boy will be _fiiine_.”

Lena stops and faces her aunt, clenching her fists to keep from shaking, “Fine?! And speak for yourself, I never know when _you’re_ gonna shut up!” Lena realized in the back of her mind that she should probably stop talking back to her aunt but she can’t stop herself, “I’d rather listen to Huey ramble about birds for a few minutes than have to listen to you talk for what seems like hours about your oh-so genius evil plans and that stupid dime!”

Magica gasps in offense, her hand going to her chest, she stumbles over a retort for a moment before huffing indignantly and disappearing once more. Lena smiles to herself, though she knew she was gonna get it later for that one. The small victory was enough for her.

Lena lingers for a short time, before heading back to the others. When she gets back the first thing she hears is Huey’s panicked voice. Part of her is relieved he’s fine but another part is worried and rife with guilt.

“And… And there was a shadow! I don’t know what it was!” Huey was shouting as she approaches, Louie was holding Huey in a tight hug while Dewey had a hand on his back. Huey’s hands were gripping tightly to Louie’s hoodie.

Lena stops dead at his words, he _saw_ Magica? She let Huey see her? Why? Just to scare him, she assumed. But, something told her there was more to it than that, she wasn’t sure what. Or if there really _was_ anything more to it than that.

“Lena! Did you find help?” Webby asks, her voice shaking slightly, she peeks behind Lena as if someone could be hiding behind her.

“N-No…” Lena says, though she could barely tear her gaze away from the panic-stricken Huey. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay! Huey’s just freaked out!” Webby forces a small laugh. Webby’s face drops. “I-Is…”

“Can we just go _home_?” Louie’s muffled call barely reaches them. Even with it so muffled, Lena could hear the telltale voice crack of someone who’s been crying.

“Yeah… We should go home.” Dewey nods, gravely. “I don’t think Huey’s gonna calm down. And well, even if he did calm down, we should still go home.”

Huey looks at him, like he was going to protest, but his body gives a heavy shiver. His grip on Louie tightens. He gives a slight nod.

“Okay.” Webby says, sounding almost relieved. She leads the way back to McDuck manor, the triplets following slowly behind, both of the younger triplets unwilling to leave the Huey’s side for even a second. Lena was trailing at the back and she leaves in a hurry as soon as the boys and Webby were safe on the manor’s doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Magica's power is coming back to her by the day, it seems.  
> I'm just sorta rolling with the idea that no one other than Lena can see Magica unless she wants to be seen, they can vaguely hear her at times, though.  
> Sorry this is a short one, but I didn't really have a better place to cut it. Also, Huey passes out more due to the spell rather than due to the air deprivation, which is why he seems mostly okay later. Mostly.


	3. In the Safety and Comfort of the Manor

In the manor, Louie was practically glued to Huey’s side as they make their way to the triplet’s shared bedroom. Huey was holding onto him as tightly as he could and Louie was doing the same. Dewey had run off once they were in the manor and their camping gear had been left forgotten at the front door.

Webby runs up to them and Louie feels Huey jump as Webby speaks far too loudly, “Hey, did you see where Lena went?!”

“No,” he says, sharply, Louie couldn’t help but be a little mad at her for doing that.

“I think she left once when got here.” Huey chimes in.

“Oh. Okay.” Webby dips her head, she’s quiet for a long moment, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t… I didn’t…”

“Webby. Just. Go. Go away, please.” Louie says, neither of them, especially not Huey, needed this right now. Though, he knew Webby didn’t mean any harm. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be mad at her for the time being. “Come back later, okay?”

“Okay…” Webby turns and leaves and somehow makes it feel like she had never been there in the first place.

Neither Huey nor Louie say anything more as they go into their bedroom and get settled on Louie’s bunk.

After a long while, Louie finally speaks up, “You okay?”

“I’m… getting there.” Huey says, he tugs the blanket that was wrapped around them just a little tighter.

Louie scoots closer. He wished Dewey was here to help with this, but he just had to run off to who knows where.

As if right on cue, Dewey… thankfully doesn’t burst into the room like Louie expects. Instead, he opens the door slowly, peeking in as if it wasn’t his room, too. Dewey slips into the room and shuts the door behind himself, pressing his back against the door.

“Can… can Uncle Donald come in?” Dewey asks, his voice hushed.

Louie looks at Huey, who gives a nod, “Yeah.”

Dewey turns and opens the door just a little, poking his head out, “Yeah, you can come in.” His voice was just barely audible behind the door.

Soon enough, Uncle Donald was in the room and had already swept Huey and Louie up in a hug. He holds them for a long time, Dewey getting pulled into it when he gets too close.

When Uncle Donald lets them go, he launches into rapid fire questions about what happened, the boys only understanding because they’ve lived with him all their lives.

“Slow down, Uncle Donald.” Dewey says as he sits down on the other side of Huey.

“Okay, okay… Just tell me what happened.”

 

As they explain what, exactly, happened, Huey swears he sees Uncle Donald go rigid at the mention of the shadow he saw.

“A shadow?” Uncle Donald mumbles to himself, “I’ll have to ask…” Uncle Donald seems to scratch that thought, looking at the boys once more, “Was… It shaped like anything?”

Huey thought that was particularly odd question. _Shaped_ like something? He, at least, felt a lot calmer now. Uncle Donald made him feel safe, and so did his brothers. They made him feel brave. Huey wracks his brain, thinking back to that moment.

“Well, it… It had a mouth. It was smiling at me.”

Uncle Donald nods, waiting for him to say more.

“I’m sorry Uncle Donald, it was dark. But, it kinda looked like it was shaped… shaped like _us_?”

Uncle Donald looked confused, like he didn’t get what he meant exactly.

“Like, a duck! An adult duck.” Huey nods, thoughtfully.

Uncle Donald kneels down to eye level with him, holding his shoulders much like the other day, “Can you recall any specific features? This is important, Huey.”

Huey swallows. _Important?_ He thinks harder, what did it look like? He had focused mostly on the eyes, the mouth, but… Had there been… _hair_? Hair about the same length as Webby’s! Or maybe a little longer. That’s what he tells Uncle Donald and his grip tightens, just briefly, on Huey’s shoulders. An expression crossing his face that Huey doesn’t quite understand.

“Thank you, Huey.” Uncle Donald says, giving Huey a hug and a kiss on the head before standing up straight, “I’ll be back in a little while.” Uncle Donald leaves the room in a hurry.

 

Donald was racing down the manor halls, his heart pounding in his chest, heading for Scrooge’s office. Magica. Magica de Spell. That was absolutely who Huey saw. No doubt about it, well, maybe there was _some_ doubt. But, he was pretty sure of it. Donald’s blood was boiling, if he could he’d tear her _limb from limb._ How dare she _._ _How dare she_ hurt his nephew? She was going to regret her actions the next time Donald saw her. If he saw her.

He bursts into Scrooge’s office, tripping over his own feet. He slides across the office floor, but he was on his feet the next moment, “ _Uncle Scrooge!_ ”

Scrooge looked bewildered, “What’s gotten into ye, lad?!”

“Magica!”

That got Scrooge on his feet, “What?! But, she’s…!”

“She’s not quite free, Huey saw her.” Donald forces himself to settle down. “She’s definitely still attached.”

Scrooge’s face settles into grim determination, “And she’ll _stay_ that way.”

Donald holds up a hand, his blood beginning to boil again as he thought about what she did earlier tonight, “You don’t understand, Uncle Scrooge.”

Scrooge’s eyes narrow, “What do ye mean…?”

“She has her power back. A lot of it. She hurt Huey.” Before Scrooge can voice the outrage Donald can see on his face at that moment, Donald has his own outburst, “ _AND I’M GONNA KILL HER!_ ”

Scrooge interrupts before Donald can start tearing the room apart, “Calm down, lad!” Scrooge grips his cane tightly, even if he had the exactly same sentiment that his nephew here did. Now was the time for a cool head, a plan of action for if the worst happened. “We’re going to make sure she never gets free.” Scrooge pulls out his #1 dime, holding it up for his nephew to see, “She needs this, first of all.”

Donald narrows his eyes, “How do you know that for sure?”

Scrooge sighs, looking away, “Ah don’t, lad. But, that’s what we’re banking on. She wouldn’t want it so bad if it weren’t important, aye?”

Donald stares at him, face settled into an icy seriousness, “Well, I hope you’re right about that.”

 

“ _Uncle Donald_ –!”

Donald wakes with a start at the blood curdling scream of his name, giving his own frightened shout. He’d been staying in his nephews’ room, sleeping on the floor the past few nights. He had to make sure Huey was one hundred percent okay, Huey hadn't been himself the past few days. Not smiling or talking much. But, this was was the first time this happened. Before he even knew he was moving, he was scrambling up to the top bunk, gesturing at his other two worried nephews to stay in their bunks for now.

There he finds Huey shaking like a leaf, tearing running down his face, Huey looks at him wide-eyed and scared and it breaks his heart.

“U– Uncle Donald…”

“Shhhh…” Donald was already wrapping Huey up tightly in his arms, “It’s okay, I’m here… I’m here.”

Huey sniffles, squeezing Donald as hard as he can.

A long while passes and at some point Dewey and Louie join them silently on the top bunk and there they all stay until morning.

 

Donald starts the next day with a new purpose. He could feel it last night. That evil witch had placed some kind of curse on Huey, he wasn’t sure why. And now he was browsing the manor’s library in search of a magical tome. Anything would work as long as it was imbued with magic, it didn’t even necessarily need the spell he was going to use. It would help, of course, but Donald was good enough to make do with anything, even if he wasn’t the best with spell books or tomes. He wasn’t willing to go searching for a magical artifact in the manor, it wasn’t worth the risk.

“Whatcha looking for, Mr. Duck?”

Donald jumps, taking several steps away from the young girl who seemed to have materialized from out of no where, “ _Where did you come from_?!”

Webby smiles at him, she didn’t seem fazed by his outburst, “Are you looking for something?”

Donald hesitates for a moment, Webby probably knew this library like the back of her hand, he nods, “Yeah, I’m looking for some kind of spell book or magical tome…”

“Oh!” Webby looks away, scratching the back of her head, “I’m sorry, Mr. Duck. Mr. McDuck doesn’t allow anything like that in the manor…”

“Of course, he doesn’t…” Donald mumbles angrily to himself, stomping his foot. “Thank you anyway, Webby.” Donald ruffles her hair and turns to leave.

“Wait!” Webby calls after him, she grabs his hand.

Donald looks at her, somewhat wide-eyed, “What is it?”

Webby tucks her arms behind her back, looking bashful, “Will you promise not to tell Mr. McDuck?” She smiles when Donald nods, “Okay! Follow me!”

When they get to Webby’s room, she digs through a small chest and pulls out what looks like a book about ponies. Donald wilts in disappointment, until a wildly different book slides out of the pony book. Donald raises an eyebrow at Webby who gives a nervous smile.

“Uh… I can borrow that?” Donald asks, pointing at himself.

“Of course! As long as I can have it back?”

Donald smiles at her, “I’ll give it back, Webby, don’t worry.”

“What do you need it for?”

Donald hesitates once more, “Er… Well…”

Webby looks hopeful, nodding at him to continue, her hands clasped together.

Donald sighs, these kids were too good at this, “I think there’s a curse on Huey, and I’m going to use this to get rid of it.” He gestures at the tome.

Webby’s eyes get an interesting sort of spark to them, “A curse?!” She sounded more excited than Donald would have liked but Webby goes from excited to concerned in that instant, “Will he be okay? What if you _can’t_ get rid of it?”

Donald pauses for a long time, that was what he was worried about. What if it was too powerful for him to get rid of it? Huey being stuck with a curse would be… Something he’d rather not think about. So, he absolutely _had_ to get rid of it, there were no ‘what if’s here.

“I’ll get rid of it.” Donald smiles with as much confidence as he can muster, ruffling Webby’s hair once again.

Webby squeaks excitedly, “Good luck!”

 

That night, Donald waits til the boys are definitely asleep. He moves carefully, pulling out the tome he borrowed from Webby. He climbs the ladder to the top bunk, Huey seems tense in his sleep and Donald wouldn’t be surprised if a repeat of last night were to happen. Not if he had anything to say about it.

Donald grips the tome tightly, repeating the curse removal spell he knew in his head. The tome begins to glow a faint blue, as does Donald’s out-stretched hand. Donald was definitely rusty, when was the last time he even _used_ magic?

He concentrates harder, the glow becoming brighter and brighter until it fully illuminated the room, he focuses the glow to his hand and reaches out to Huey. When Donald brushes his hand through Huey’s hair, there’s a brief flash and the blue glow spreads throughout Huey’s body before fading out. Relief washes over Donald as he watches his nephew visibly relax. It worked! _It worked!_

Donald wants to cheer, but instead he throws his hands up in the air, which he quickly realizes was a mistake. He falls off the ladder, hitting the floor with a dull thud. Quickly scanning the bunks to see if any of the triplets woke up, he sighs.

 

He returns the tome to Webby in the morning and thanks her for letting him use it. As he turns to leave, he lets her know it worked.

Donald hadn’t seen the triplets yet today. They had been out of the room by the time he woke up. The use of magic had taken a lot out of him, he had to admit, made him sleep much longer. Suddenly, Huey and Dewey race past him, shouting about something. Louie was likely watching TV somewhere in the manor. But, what were Huey and Dewey up to?

Donald follows after them, amused by their playful shouting. The two younger triplets seemed to have a system going on, one of them was to always be with Huey, at least that’s how he saw it. It wasn’t like it was particularly unusual for the triplets to stick together. Or be on their own, for that matter.

“I could have sworn it was here!” Dewey shouts as Donald catches up to them, they had stopped at a dead end.

“Are you _sure_?” Huey asks incredulously.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” Dewey crosses his arms, “There was a secret passage.”

“Maybe it was a different hallway?” Huey looks around, “It _is_ really easy to get lost in this place.”

“But, we’ve _been here_ for months, Hubert!” Dewey says, holding his arms up in the air. “It’s physically _impossible_ for us to get lost at this point!”

Huey raises an eyebrow, “Dewey. You got lost, like, last week.”

“No, no, you were imagining things!” Dewey says, draping his arm across Huey’s shoulders. “I don’t _get_ lost.”

“No, I wasn’t. And yes, you do.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t Louie?”

“Yeah.”

Dewey crosses his arms again with a pout. Huey smiles triumphantly, which is the first time Donald has seen him smile the past few days. Donald laughs lightly at the interaction, and the fact that Dewey managed to get Huey smiling warmed his heart. He sees Dewey crack a smile before the boys notice him.

“Hi, Uncle Donald!” Huey and Dewey chime at the same time.

“Hi, boys. What are you up to?” Donald looks between them.

Huey jerks a thumb towards Dewey, “Dewey was showing me a secret passage he found, but now he can’t find it. I’m starting to think he imagined it.”

Dewey blows a raspberry, “I didn’t imagine it!”

“Then, where is it?”

“It’s here somewhere! We have all day to find it!”

Donald laughs, “I see.” Then, he looks at Dewey a bit more seriously, “Dewey, can I talk with Huey alone?”

Dewey’s eyebrows raise, “Oh. Alright, Uncle Donald.” To Huey he says, “We’re not finished looking for that secret passage!”

Huey smiles at him, “Yeah!”

With that, Dewey takes off down the hall, likely in search of the secret passage he found. Huey looks at Donald expectantly. Donald kneels down, placing a hand on Huey’s shoulder.

“Are you feeling okay today?” Donald couldn’t hide the concern in his voice, even though Huey seemed perfectly fine today. He couldn’t stop thinking of the days prior, especially the day after the curse-induced nightmare. Seeing his usually bright and optimistic nephew completely drained of life, it wasn’t something he wanted to see ever again. It was unfortunately something he would probably have to see again anyway.

“Yes, Uncle Donald!” Huey says, and then becomes deep in thought for a long moment, “I slept really well.” He adds.

Donald smiles, “That’s good.” He gives his nephew a hug before standing up.

“Is that all you needed, Uncle Donald?” Huey doesn’t hide his confusion. Donald wasn’t surprised that Huey had likely expected more.

Donald nods, “For now. I’ll check up on you later.”

“Okay! See you later, Uncle Donald.” Huey calls behind him, as he was already on the move to find Dewey once again.

Donald would have to ask them later if they ever found that secret passage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do they ever find the secret passage? Whooo knoooows~
> 
> To clarify, Magica can't do any super crazy stuff as she is right now, she needs Lena's help for anything fancy. But, she can cast basic enchantments, curses, spells, etc by herself without any input from Lena. And that is a mighty fine concern for Donald and Scrooge.


	4. Capture and Jailbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts at a weird spot, but I hope you enjoy anyway?

“Whoooaaa!” The voice of a young duckling echoes down the cavernous halls of the temple, “This place is _huuuu-uuuge_!”  
  
“Dewey! Shh!” Huey lifts his eyes from the small paperback he had picked up in the village south of the temple, spying his brother just a little down the way from him. “We have to be quiet!”  
  
“At least,” Louie pipes up from somewhere near him, “That’s what Uncle Scrooge said.”

“Yes, of course, but we ought to trust his judgment, right?” Huey looks at Louie, who gives a mild mannered shrug. Satisfied with that, he returns his gaze to Dewey, “Right, _Dew_ _ford_?”

Though, Huey wondered in the back of his mind _why_ they had to be quiet. Were there guards or something? The villagers wouldn’t give a straight answer when he asked, and they acted like it was abandoned or something. Or really dangerous.

Dewey crosses his arms, staring at Huey, who glares daggers at him. Dewey rolls his eyes, “Right. Sure. Can we _go_? We need to catch up with Scrooge.”

Huey sighs, rolling his eyes, “Let’s go.”

Huey returns his attention to the book in his hands, but not for very long. The shopkeepers had said the paperback would give him all the information he would need about the temple, the area. But, much to his disappointment, it wasn’t helpful or informative at all, and Huey stuffs it haphazardly into his backpack. He really shouldn’t have been surprised, since not even the JWG had information about this place. And Webby wasn’t here to fill them in. If she even could.

He picks up the pace, falling into step beside Dewey, “Have you seen anything interesting?”

“Eeeeeeehhhhhhhhhh…” Dewey’s voice gets higher and higher as he ‘says’ that, ending off with, “Nooot realllly…?”

Huey’s shoulders sag, “Oh.”

“Just… the writing on the walls, but we can’t, y’know. Read it.” Dewey pats him on the back.

“Yeah...” Huey mumbles forlornly, this place wasn’t as exciting as he expected. Even Uncle Donald stayed back in the village. _Uncle Donald..._

Even Webby was off doing something with her Granny, she had left before they even went on this trip. Launchpad was busy fixing the Sunchaser, who knows how long that would take.

Huey gives the wall a wary glance. There weren’t any familiar characters, no translation guides were available in the world, no one in the village would read it for them, either. If they even knew how to read it. Uncle Scrooge said it didn’t matter. That the civilization around here just dabbled in magic and didn’t like to share much and that the villagers probably didn’t know much either. He was right about the villagers knowing nothing, at least... Scrooge went on to say how he, and by extension, the entire family, didn’t need magic to succeed.

It didn’t stop him from being curious, but Huey knew better than to pry, for the most part. Frankly, he wasn’t even sure why they were here. Did Uncle Scrooge know something they didn’t? Huey wasn’t even sure they were allowed in the temple. He pulls the JWG out from under his hat, there _had_ to be something in here, something about this place.

Huey is quiet as he scours the Guidebook, so are his brothers. He walks relatively slowly, occasionally glancing at the walls to glean some information. Compare the writings to the translation guides in his Guidebook. Nothing. Nothing?

_Wait._

_Something doesn’t seem right. Louie was usually quiet, of course._ Dewey wasn’t.

He inhales sharply, glancing around with bated breath, hoping to spot at least one of the other two. Where were Dewey and Louie? For that matter, where was Uncle Scrooge? Where was _he_?

 

Huey takes hesitant steps forward, tucking the JWG back to it’s usual spot, scared to call out for anyone. How had they separated from him and how long ago? Or did he take a wrong turn somewhere and separate himself _from_ them? He couldn’t believe he lost his brothers, what kind of older brother was he?

He takes a turn and stops dead. Eyes locking with a black and white hawk holding what looked to be a spear. Likely a guard. A lump forms in Huey’s throat. There were guards! But why? Why couldn’t Uncle Scrooge be here instead? Or his brothers?

“What are you doing in here?!”

Huey doesn’t hesitate, he turns on his heel and runs as fast as he can. The guard yelling after him. He felt a sense of dread in his chest and he wasn’t too sure why. He could get caught and likely thrown in a cell. Somewhere in the temple? Most likely. If he was lucky enough to get thrown in a cell, he’d need to be prepared for it. They would probably take his backpack. But. Not his hat, maybe. Huey tugs his backpack off and digs through it. He pulls out a small survival knife and tucks it under his hat. That wasn’t going to be enough, he knew, and he pulls out several more small tools and tucks them under his hat. Satisfied with that, he takes out the useless paperback and slings his backpack back over his shoulder.

Huey peeks behind him and spots the guard fast approaching. He was close enough. Huey folds the paperback as tightly as he can and swings his arm back, preparing a proper baseball pitch. He throws the paperback at record speed and nails the hawk guard right the beak. Huey gives an enthusiastic “Ha hah!” and rounds the corner, looking around to see if he can spot anything familiar.

As he runs, the images and runes on the walls begin to light up. A bright, almost blinding, blue. Huey stares at the glow as he turns another corner and when he does, there’s a blight flash on the ceiling and a wall crashes down. Huey barely has time to react, giving a startled shout as he slams beak first into the wall that was absolutely not there before.

Huey scrambles back to his feet despite the horrible pain in his face, and turns to run back the way he came, only to come face to face with the guard he had hit with the paperback, who looked less than happy, and another guard who had an amused sparkle in his eyes. How many guards were in the temple? When did the other one show up? Huey backs up, his back pressing up against the wall.

As the guards approach, it takes Huey a moment to register that his feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. His eyes widen in shock and fear, kicking his legs futilely, before he can yell or react anymore at all, one of the guards snaps his fingers and everything goes dark.

 

 

Huey wakes up, how long later, he didn’t know. Gasping and soaked in sweat, he sits up, staring around the cell he was locked in. Spotting a guard just as they leave the room. Huey takes a deep breath, scanning the room, his backpack was set on a stone table, there was a shovel in the corner. Huey furrows his brow, unsure of what that shovel could possibly be for. There didn't seem to be anything else of note in the room. There wasn't even a guard posted to watch him, then again he _was_ a child. In any case, it seemed like they didn't get many prisoners. Or maybe... Huey shakes his head, instead focusing on his own predicament. Hopefully his situation was one he could get out of.

Huey shuffles around a bit. His hands were tied with rope at the wrist, his feet at the ankle. He could feel his hat on his head. Great!

Huey waits for a few moments, making sure no guards came in, then tilts his head back. He gives an aggressive shake, his hat and, more importantly, the tools he stored away fall to the floor. He feels around as much behind him as he can with his restrained hands, eventually grasping the familiar worn handle of his survival knife. It flicks open easily and he fumbles only little to get the blade up to the rope. This was going to take a little while, he knew, but the blade was sharp. He sharpened it himself, in fact!

He sits there, for who knows how long, sawing through the rope, making more progress than he expected with his hands tied.

“C’mon, c’mon.” Huey murmurs to himself, sticking his tongue out in his focus. His heart was pounding in his chest, nervous that a guard would walk in and catch him. _Hurry, hurry._

Huey slips, in the worst way possible. He yelps as the knife cuts into his arm, squeezing his eyes shut. Cursing himself for getting too reckless in his haste. He re-adjusts the knife, getting back to cutting the rope rather than himself, trying to ignore the sting in his arm. Eventually the rope falls away and Huey sighs in relief. He wasn’t out of the woods _just yet_ , however. He quickly unties the rope around his ankles, silently glad that the guards weren’t actually all that good at tying knots, and gets to his feet. Huey inspects his arm, the knife hadn’t hit anything too important; but the cut was deep, and unfortunately, it was bleeding profusely.

_Okay, unlock the door, make sure the coast is clear, and book it. Find Uncle Scrooge, Dewey, and Louie. That should be easy enough as long as no guards come in._

Huey gathers up his stuff, putting his hat back on, and tucking away everything but the tools he was going to use. He slips his arms through the bars, searching for the key hole, eventually locating it with what he had. Hopefully nothing would snap in the lock. Huey presses his head against the cell door while he works to pick the lock, listening for that wondrous click of a successfully picked lock. After a few agonizing moments… _Click!_ The cell door swings open. Huey resists the urge to cheer, instead giving an excitable jump. And the troop leaders said he didn’t need the Locking Picking badge, if only they could see him now! He knew it would truly come in handy someday, he was prepared for anything!

Huey runs to his backpack, rifling through it before a guard could stumble into the room. He needed to patch his arm up real fast. It would probably need to be sewed shut. But, that could come later.

Only to find that he apparently didn’t have a first aid kit. He must’ve forgotten it. Unless the guards took it, which he supposed was a possibility. Apparently, he wasn’t quite prepared for everything. Huey gives a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temple, only to go stiff when he hears foot steps and grumbling down the hall. Huey swings his backpack over his shoulder, peeking out the door, ducking back in when he spots the guard not far down the hall.

“Great, now what?” Huey mumbles to himself, clenching his fists tightly. Then it hits him like a brick or rather a light bulb blinking on in his mind. Or both. The shovel! It wasn’t the best plan, but it was one he could work with.

 _Junior Woodchuck Rule #_ _44: Violence is never the answer._

 _Junior Woodchuck Rule #_ _4_ _4.5_ _: Unless you’re in danger._

Huey grabs the shovel and presses his back to the wall. He was hurt and bleeding. He was scared. But, even so, he holds the shovel tightly, holding his breath. Preparing himself for the worst and hopefully the best. He hoped Dewey and Louie were okay. They were okay, they had to be. And he was going to be okay, too.

The guard enters the room and Huey watches him pause in confusion upon seeing the empty cell. He uses the pause as an opportunity to swing. And swing he does, as hard as he can. _CLANG!_ He hits the guard square in the face with the shovel, the poor hawk dropping hard to floor. Huey decides not to wait around, he bails out the door, running left down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! This chapter ends on a odd note but, I didn't want to split it up too much. It was actually going to be two chapters, but I realized it was too short that way. There's gonna be a flashback or extra at some point describing what happens between this chapter and the last, once I get it to how I like it. The next chapter will be out hopefully sooner this time, I'm going to try to do longer chapters from now on and plan for the next one to be a doozy! Also, I promise not everything bad will happen to Huey, bad things will happen to other characters, too!


	5. Anger, Hurt, and Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for a flashback! Kind of. This chapter is what happens between chapters 3 and 4. Consider it chapter 3.5.

Huey boards the houseboat, heading down to the lower deck, where Uncle Donald presumably was. He hadn’t been anywhere in the manor, and the old beat up car Huey was still quite fond of was parked out front. This was the only place Uncle Donald could be!

It was early evening and Huey hoped Uncle Donald hadn’t gone to sleep yet, as unlikely as that was.

“Uncle Donald…!” Huey calls quietly, as he goes down the stairs.

Uncle Donald pokes his head around the corner, “What is it, Huey?”

“There you are!” Huey holds up his notepad, “I have more questions!”

Uncle Donald stares at him, Huey stares back.

“You’re really that interested in magic?”

“Well… Yeah!” Huey grips his notepad and pen between his hands, squeezing them, “I was going to do my own research. Y’know, read up on it.” He waves a hand, “But, I couldn’t find any books even mentioning magic in the manor library. There were books on the supernatural, the mythological, science-fictional, even books on the occult! But, none on magic. Not to say that all of those things I mentioned weren’t interesting, they were extremely interesting, but…!”

Uncle Donald nods slowly, like he wasn’t sure what exactly Huey was going on about. But, he smiles and says, “Alright, I’ll answer a few more questions…”

Huey jumps, almost throwing his notepad, “Okay! But, first,” Huey becomes a bit more serious, “I wanted to ask… Would you teach me?”  
  
Uncle Donald’s face crumbles into something Huey couldn’t quite place. It was a mixture of all sorts of emotions, anger perhaps, sadness, disappointment. “No.” Is all Uncle Donald says.

Huey frowns, he forces down the disappointment bubbling in his chest, “Why not…?”

Uncle Donald shakes his head, “It’s too dangerous.” Huey waits for him to say more, but all Uncle Donald does is avoid eye contact.  
  
That was fair. That was _fine_. That’s fine. Fine. No. Too dangerous? How was it any more dangerous than the adventures he and his brothers go on with Uncle Scrooge? He didn’t understand and he glares at Uncle Donald.

“ _Too dangerous?”_ Huey all but growls.

Uncle Donald raises his eyebrows and stands up, he already knew what was happening, “Huey, calm down.”

“I _am_ calm!” Huey was _perfectly_ calm! He knew he was, but maybe he wasn’t. Maybe it was happening too fast for him to really know. How odd was it that Uncle Donald of all people was telling him to calm down. Huey’s heard those words from his uncle plenty of times, but that knowledge was lost in the void along with his calm.

Uncle Donald reaches out to him, ready to crouch down and put his hands on his shoulders. Maybe give him a tight hug to calm him down. Huey knew that always seemed to work, even so he backs away him.

“Huey…” Uncle Donald sounded hurt and Huey could see the hurt on his face. “Please understand.”

Huey wanted to, he wanted to stop. He didn’t like this. Uncle Donald wasn’t helping. Huey wasn’t helping himself, either. Why wasn’t Uncle Donald explaining what he _should be_ understanding? Has he lied to him this whole time? Did he only say that magic was real to get him to stop asking so much? Has he made this _all up_?! Huey’s mind latches onto that and spins wildly out of control. Even though he knew that wasn’t likely the case. Druid magic was real after all. That was different. It didn’t match up to what his uncle has told him. He lied. _He lied_. Huey was gripping his notepad and pen impossibly tight. He could feel the paper crumpling in his hand. _Why_ did he believe his uncle so readily?!

“Have… Have you lied to me _this whole time_?!” Huey’s shoulders and voice shaking with anger bordering on pure rage. In the back his mind, Huey was only somewhat aware he just snapped his pen in half and spattered ink everywhere.

Uncle Donald takes a step back, putting his hands up, “Of course not!” That step back didn’t last long, though, and now his uncle was reaching out to him once more, offering a hug. Offering a moment to calm down. “Please, calm down, Huey.”

Huey stares at him, at his arms, and eventually makes eye contact. What Huey sees in Uncle Donald’s eyes makes his throat close up, and regret strikes him hard in the chest. But, the anger doesn’t subside and give way like he expects. Why?

“I can’t.” Huey’s voice comes out impossibly small, scared. Huey drops his broken pen and notepad, pulling his hat down over his eyes. “Why did you lie to me?” He was gripping his hat tightly, the fabric of it crumpling up in his hands.

“I didn’t…” Uncle Donald’s voice cracks just slightly. He was close now, about to pull Huey into a hug, a hug that Huey desperately wanted but his head wouldn’t let him have.

“How can I know if you won’t show me?”

Uncle Donald’s arms drop, he seemed at a loss for words. He tries to say something, stumbling horribly over the words he actually manages to get out.

Huey looks away from him, shaking his head, “Why did I believe you?” With that, he trudges up the stairs and off of the houseboat. When he enters the manor, he brushes past Dewey and up more stairs, where Webby stops him.

 

“What’s wrong?” She leans into his line of sight, her face showing mild concern.

“Nothing.” Is the first thing Huey says, but it doesn’t come out naturally and he knows Webby likely didn’t believe it for a second, “Please leave me alone, okay?”

Webby droops a bit. She nods, but doesn’t say anything, and Huey can feel her staring after him even as he goes into his room.

 

Huey flops into his bunk, and lays there for what seems to be several hours, trying not to think too much. He stares at the wall, starting to doze off; when something flops lightly onto his bunk, he jumps, sitting up so fast it makes him dizzy. Finding Webby sitting with her legs crossed near the ladder, _blocking_ it, smiling softly at him.

Huey’s shoulders relax and he lays back down, covering his eyes with the back of his hands, “Webby. What are you doing?”

“Uh. Well. Checking on you?” Webby laughs nervously and Huey can picture her twirling her hair with her finger as she does that. He can’t help but smile a little at that mental image.

Huey wasn’t sure why he wasn’t upset with her sneaking into the triplet’s bedroom, climbing up to his bunk, and blocking his only means of escape; by all means, he should have been. But, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry with her earnest attempts to make sure he was okay.  
“Are you feeling okay?” Webby asks after a few minutes of silence.

Huey sits up. Webby was still placed firmly in front of the ladder, she had her hands on her ankles and was rocking lightly back and forth. She smiles when their eyes meet.

“To be honest, I don’t know.” Huey says after thinking it over for a moment.

Webby frowns, “Oh.” She seems to be mulling over something for minute, then, “Well… Well, you can talk to me about it. If… you want to.”

Huey sighs, and simply sits there staring at his hands. Then, he scoots over to Webby, placing himself face-to-face across from her. Much to his surprise, Webby reaches across to him and place her hand on his own, smiling sweetly. Huey smiles.

Then, he launches into a long ramble, explaining what happened earlier with Uncle Donald. How he had gotten so angry, and he didn’t know why. He knew he had a bad temper, he knew that! How he regretted the things he said but still firmly believed that Uncle Donald had _lied_ to him.

And when he was done, Webby sits silent for a while. Eventually, she looks up at him, determination on her face, “I’ll be right back.”

“Wh–” Huey barely manages to get that out before watching in mild terror as Webby pretty much back flips off of his bunk. She sticks the landing and Huey resists the urge to applaud. Almost. He applauds.

Before Webby runs out of the room, she throws her arms up in the air as if she’s saying “TA-DAH!” and gives a bow. Once she was done she zips out of the room and is back in less than a minute. She backs into the room, a thick book behind her back, she was glancing with suspicion in each direction and once satisfied that she wasn’t followed, she closes the door quietly.

“Donald told me not to tell you this.” Webby says as she sets the book down and pulls herself the rest of the way to the top bunk. “But, I think you should know!”

“What would that be?” Huey asks as he examines the book in front of him, “ _ **The Grimoire du Merlock**_?”

“Yeah, it’s a spellbook!” Webby says, excitedly, “I snuck it into the manor when Uncle Scrooge wasn’t looking! Please don’t tell him.” She clasps her hands together.

Huey nods, “I won’t. But… What does this have to do with Uncle Donald?” Huey flips lightly through the pages of the spellbook.

“Well, you know a while back? When you suddenly couldn’t breathe?”

Huey blinks, honestly he tried not to think about that incident and the days after. He didn’t feel right for several days. “… Yeah?”

“Donald figured out that you had a curse put on you when that happened!”  
  
Huey flinches, “A cur–”

Webby interrupts, “And, well, he had been looking in the manor library, looking for a spellbook, but you know, Uncle Scrooge doesn’t allow things like that in the manor.”

Huey nods.

“So… I let him borrow The Grimoire du Merlock. Then, that night he took the curse off of you. Using magic.” Webby seemed tense, like she was nervous how Huey would react. She waits in anticipation, staring at him.

Huey looks at the book and then at Webby and back again, “He… He did?”

“Yeah!”

“What night?”

Webby’s face drops, “Huh?”

“What night did he do that?”

Webby mulls it over for a moment, “Thursday night.” She eventually says.

Huey’s taken aback. He couldn’t believe it, almost. Uncle Donald had done that? He made him feel better, made him stop seeing things, and jumping at every noise and shadow? Made him stop feeling like his energy was being slowly, ever so slowly drained from him? Removed a curse from his body?

Huey remembered that Thursday night like it was yesterday instead of several weeks ago. He had been having a nightmare, or a night terror? On the verge of jolting awake, at least he had thought in his dream. He’d never had a nightmare like it, it was so, _so_ real. How the shadows, the twisting, _alive_ shadows encroached upon him. Drowning out all sound and him. The whispers he couldn’t pick out the meaning of. They would tear him apart over and over and _over_.

Until there was blue. A bright, brilliant _blue_ flash. A blue filled with never ending love. The blue obliterated the shadows, leaving him on the deck of a boat, staring at the similarly brilliant blue sky, and smelling the salt of the ocean. The wind ruffled his hair or maybe it was Uncle Donald that did. He relaxed, he _finally_ relaxed, and felt safe. Of course it was. It was Uncle Donald that did that for him. He had already showed Huey what he wanted to see all along.

Huey must have been crying, or looking like he was going to start to, because Webby sounded concerned when her words cut through his thoughts, “Huey? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Huey nods, smiling, “Thank you for telling me that, Webby. Really.”

Webby perks up considerably, “Of course!” Before she can do anything else, the bedroom door opens and Mrs. Beakley steps in.

“Dear, we’re leaving now, pack your things.” She says, she regards them curiously, but doesn’t say anything more, instead turning to leave.

“Alright, Granny!” Webby calls, jumping off the bunk and this time doing a roll. She starts to leave but turns around abruptly, whipping up the bunk bed ladder before Huey can attempt to climb down, Webby tackles him into a tight hug.

“Ooof.” Huey grunts, but in the end returns the embrace happily, “S–see you later, Webby.”

“See you later!” She says pulling away from him and jumping off the bunks for the third time that day. She waves back at him as she runs out of the room.

 

Huey climbs down the ladder and out of their room in the tower. He was on a mission now. To apologize to Uncle Donald. But, before he gets back to the houseboat, Dewey and Louie stop him. Dewey hands him a backpack.

“Hey,” Louie starts, “We’re going on a trip.”

“To _wheeeereeee_?” Dewey asks Louie almost excitedly. Even though he should already know.

Louie sighs, “To somewhere.”

“Somewhere?” Huey asks, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Louie says without saying much else before groaning in utter frustration, “Uncle Scrooge said, ‘Get Huey, lads, we’re going on a little adventure!’” Louie rolls his eyes mid sentence, “So, of course, we ask, ‘Where, Uncle Scrooge?’ and you know what he said?”

“Wh–What?”

“’We’re going on a trip to somewhere, lads. In some country. Somewhere that exists. Definitely somewhere.’ Then he laughed nervously and walked away. He was acting _really weird_!” Louie throws his hands up in the air.

Dewey was laughing, but looks at Huey somewhat seriously, “Scrooge and Uncle Donald are waiting in the Sunchaser, we better hurry.”

Huey couldn’t help but feel utterly perplexed by this but hurries to pack up important supplies in his backpack and follow his brothers to the Sunchaser. When they board the cargo plane, Huey sees Uncle Donald first, he was buckled in a seat with his legs pulled up and his arms crossed. He gives Huey a sad glance before looking away. He doesn’t say anything.

Huey spends almost the whole flight trying to come up with a good way to apologize and hesitating when he would finally come up with something. The rest of the time he spent napping. Or trying to, at least.

Before he knew it, it was dawn and they were landing, and he never gets a chance to say it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't originally going to include this at first because I couldn't get it how I liked. Buuuut, I think I finally did it! I like how it came out and I hope you do, too. I'm pretty sure Dewey is the only one that really finds the whole "we're going somewhere!" thing funny. I think I'm going to do an extra chapter that details what it was like from Huey's point of view while cursed. That's far off, we're going to back to the unnamed temple next chapter.  
> Any comments or reviews really encourage me to keep going, so please consider telling me what you think.


	6. Cracked and Mending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning about somewhat graphic descriptions of injuries. This one's a bit of a doozy and I greatly apologize for the constantly shifting POV.

Huey was doing his best to sneak around, peeking slowly around corners, going the other way when he spots a guard. He had his hand to the wall, feeling the images and words that lay there. Huey figured, since this place seemed to be a maze, he would keep to the left side and eventually find an exit. He doesn’t see any guards for a long time. His arm was still bleeding a little bit and he hoped he wasn’t leaving a trail of some kind. Glancing behind him, sighing lightly when he doesn’t see anything in the semi-darkness of the temple.

He treks on and feels like he's making no progress. Then again, he _was_ moving really slow…

With the suddenness of a light being flicked on in a pitch black room, the words and images on the walls begin to glow blinding cold blue once again. Huey hops away, wobbling horribly and falling to his knees. _What?!_ The floor shifts under him, with a low, almost inaudible, rumble. Huey stares around him with wide shocked eyes as the hall changes from being completely straight to suddenly having a turn. A right turn, rather than the left turns Huey had been trying to meticulously take this whole time.

“The… the temple changes shape?” Huey whispers to himself, his mind reeling. How? Why didn’t they _notice_ _the temple shifting_? Panic strikes Huey hard in the chest, what if he had been going in circles this whole time?

“I have to find Uncle Scrooge!” Huey launches to his feet and runs back the way he came.

 

* * *

 

Scrooge exhales heavily, not really wanting to say what he had to.

“I lost the boys.”  
  
“ _YOU WHAT?!”_

Scrooge winces as his nephew screams at the top of his lungs over the phone, “Look, Donald, it’s not my–”

“Oh, it wasn’t your fault? Is that what you’re about to say?! Don’t bother!” Donald sounded a bit calmer than before, but definitely still angry. Scrooge hears a crash in the background.  
  
“Well, it wasn’t!” Scrooge thought he knew better than to argue like this, especially at a time like this.

“ _Yes, it is!_ You lost them! This is–”

“Don’t you say it!” Scrooge snaps.  
  
“They were with you. When they’re with you, they are your responsibility.” Donald’s voice is dark, angry. The sort of anger that was much more tranquil than what was expected of his nephew. Like the calm before the storm. “What if they’re hurt or even…” Donald doesn’t finish his sentence, Scrooge knew Donald didn’t even want to think of the possibility that his nephews were severely hurt or even _dead_.

Scrooge adjusts his hat, dipping his head, he knew he couldn’t avoid this. He knew he shouldn’t have even tried.

His voice comes out low at what he’s about to admit and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to say again, “I… I _know_ that. Lad, why do you think I called _you_? I need help.”

He hears a crash and a crunch on the other end and that’s all the response he gets. Scrooge stares at the phone for a long moment, before tucking it away in his coat.

“Uncle Scrooge!”

Scrooge’s shoulders relax in relief as he spots the boys running down the hall towards him, only for his gut to twist in concern when he realizes that Huey wasn’t with them.

 

* * *

 

Donald had already rushed out of the hotel and was halfway across the village, headed straight for the temple he could see peeking just above the treeline. He had had the foresight, thankfully, to grab his backpack.

His boys! His boys needed him!  
  
Donald does his best to shove people out of his way as gently as he can. And within a minute, he blows past the exit to town, skittering to a stop for just a half-second, immediately spotting the proper trail, the one he was looking for. He takes off down the trail ignoring any villager calling after him, ignoring anyone shouting warnings of danger. Any danger was worth charging headfirst into to protect his boys. They were his whole world. He should have gone with them from the beginning.

Why did he think that Scrooge would be able to keep a watchful eye on the boys in the temple, especially one as huge as the one they were in. The villagers had even warned that it was labyrinthine and not many people came out after going in. Then again, Scrooge had brought the boys back safe from several adventures, so why should he have thought that this one would be different?

He stumbles to a stop beside a sign, examining it for a moment. Picking out the sign that pointed the way to the temple with seemingly no name. He runs in the direction it points, eventually finding a huge staircase. Donald launches up the steps and he wouldn’t be surprised if he was going up 2 or 3 steps at a time.

The temple door is open when he gets to the top, and without any hesitation, he dives into the temple… And immediately runs into a guard. Or rather, immediately knocks down a guard. Donald was rushing around a corner by the time he hears the confused guard shout after him.

It isn’t long before he runs into Scrooge, and more importantly, Dewey and Louie. Donald silently glad that his bad luck didn’t strike and make it, instead, impossible to find them.

“Uncle Donald!” The two boys say in unison.

“Dewey! Louie!” Donald is quick to scoop them up in a hug and then set them back down at their protests, “Where’s Huey?” He asks them and then looks, or rather, glares at Scrooge; who glares back, before looking away.

“We don’t know, we lost him a while ago.” Dewey says, he rubs his arm. He definitely seemed worried.

Louie, on the other hand, doesn’t say anything at all. Instead just sort of folding in on himself.

Donald’s shoulders droop, Huey could be hurt. His stomach was twisting horribly with dread. “Uncle Scrooge, take these two out of here and back to the hotel.”

Scrooge looked as if he was about to protest but, relents real quick when Donald narrows his eyes, but doesn't say anything.

Scrooge grimaces, glancing away, “Right. I’ll be back after I drop the boys off, to help find Huey.”

Donald didn’t really like that plan, didn’t like leaving his other two boys alone even if he knew they were capable, but decides against arguing, time was of the essence.

 

* * *

 

Huey was breathing hard. Uncle Scrooge. _W_ _here_ was Uncle Scrooge?! They needed to leave. If they didn’t now, they would never be able to. In addition to that, he didn’t want to get caught again, Huey knew they probably wouldn’t just put him back in the cell the second time. Huey turns a corner, sliding on his feet, only to spot a guard down the hall. Backing up, he runs the other way. He wished he had a map of some kind. Why didn’t he think of that?! _Wait, no, that wouldn’t work! The temple changes shape._ Huey gives a frustrated groan. He turns a corner fast, not bothering to look down the other way.

“HEY!"

Huey runs a hand through his hair, sighing. _Great._

He had been running around the temple looking for his brothers and Uncle Scrooge for what seemed to be forever. He was tired and dizzy and needed rest but now, there was yet another guard chasing him as Huey had simply and recklessly thrown caution to the wind. He wished he hadn’t.

The guard catches up with him for a moment, and attempts to strike Huey in the back with the pole of his spear. Huey’s backpack being in the way, the attempt fails and Huey gets a chance to speed up. He yelps as the guard manages to swing once more and catch him, just barely, in the ribs. Thankfully, that’s all the guard manages as Huey pulls ahead.

Huey takes the next left turn he sees and slams hard into someone, he falls right on his butt and immediately tries to scramble back to his feet. Pausing when he gets a good look at the person he ran into. Huey feels a sense of relief and, most of all, safety when he realizes who it is. He had no idea why he was here but he really couldn’t be more relieved.

“Uncle Donald!” Huey shouts, throwing himself into his uncle’s arms.

“Huey!” Uncle Donald’s voice was filled to the brim with relief as he squeezes Huey tightly. Only for his voice to suddenly become angry as Huey finds himself being spun around and set down gently, “ _YOU!”_

Huey spins himself back around just in time to see his Uncle Donald charge at the guard who had just been chasing him. The frightened, and probably confused, guard seems to forget he’s holding a spear in that moment as he backs away and turns to run.

“ _JUST WAIT TIL I GET MY HANDS ON YOU! GET BACK HERE!”_ Is all Huey can pick out of Uncle Donald’s yelling, as he chases the guard at full speed down the hall.

Huey waits where he is for a few minutes, occasionally picking up the sound of a crash or Uncle Donald’s yelling. Eventually, he spots Uncle Donald trudging back to him. Donald smiles just a little as he approaches, when he gets to him, his uncle drops to his knees and hugs him.

“Are you okay?”

Huey buries his face into Uncle Donald’s shoulder, despite a sharp pain as he does so, he felt like he was about to cry. It had seemed like he had been running for hours on end. He might’ve been. But, now, he felt so safe, like he had finally been pulled out of some sort of Hell. At least, for the moment.

“I’m okay.”

Uncle Donald lets him go after a long moment, and tilts Huey’s head up, examining his face, “What happened?”

Before Huey can answer, his attention shifts, eyes widening at an entirely different guard approaching cautiously. Uncle Donald seems to notice this, whipping around lightning quick. The guard attempts to strike with their spear only for Donald to just barely dodge it. And unfortunately for the guard, grab the spear by the pole. Before the guard has any time to realize what had happened, Uncle Donald yanks it from their hands, holds it with both hands above his head, and yells in a manner that Huey could only describe as ‘crazy’. Triumphantly crazy.

Uncle Donald then proceeds to, rather than use the spear against the guard, snap it in half, throw it behind him over Huey’s head, and then strike his traditional fighting pose as if to tell the guard to “ _Bring it on!_ ”

Though, of course, the only words that were coming out of Uncle Donald’s mouth was, what at least Huey was pretty sure was, incomprehensible angry gibberish. But, it seemed to frighten the guard nonetheless. The guard puts their hands up and then scrambles to run as Uncle Donald charges at them without much more warning.

* * *

 

Scrooge and the boys had only just found the exit to the temple. It had seemed like that they had been trying to find it for at least an hour, though he was sure it wasn’t that long.

“ _Finally!_ ” Scrooge shouts as they step out, spreading his arms out above his head. Glad to finally have fresh air back. He pauses for a moment, surprise striking him as he realizes that the sun was already setting. They had just gone in that morning. At precisely 8. They had been in there that long?

Scrooge shakes off the shock of it all, and begins to trudge down the temple steps. He had gotten what he needed anyway. He’s about a quarter of the way down when he turns to tell the boys to hurry up. His beak closes with dull shock when he finds that Dewey and Louie weren’t there behind him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he slaps his face, running his hand down his beak, “Ohhhh, curse me kilts, they ran back in.” _Of course they did._

Scrooge gives a frustrated groan skyward, before running back into the temple.

 

* * *

 

There’s a bright purple flash and Uncle Donald is sent reeling backwards. Why was it purple this time? Huey scrambles to his Uncle’s side as he tries pull himself up.

Huey takes his hand and helps him to his feet, “Are you okay, Uncle Donald?” Not bother to hide the concern in his voice. The guard had, at first ran, before turning around and blasting Uncle Donald.

Uncle Donald nods and stares around them, observing the walls around them, “This place is…” He doesn’t get to finish, another eye-searingly bright purple blast hits him square in the chest. Donald hits the floor with a dull thud, slowly pulling himself up.

Huey starts towards him.

“Stop.”

Huey turns, to a face full of purple light. He backs up, fear rising in his chest. When he glaces at the guard's face, their expression is unnervingly cold.

“ _THAT’S IT_!”

Suddenly the purple in the walls was gone, overridden by that soft brilliant blue glow. A wave passes over them, dissipating the blast the guard had at the ready, as Huey turns to look. All Huey could feel in that blue glow was what he felt that night. And he knew all that guard could feel was anger and hatred. Huey could see the guard backing up out of the corner of his eye. Then, all of a sudden, they reach out and grab him firmly by the arm, pulling him, despite his attempts to struggle, in front of them, as if they were trying to use him as a shield. Their fingers were digging painfully into his shoulders.

But, even that didn’t distract him from Uncle Donald, his eyes were glowing and the magical aura was rolling off his shoulders, wisping away in the air. Huey could see the tension in his shoulders. He was thinking. Trying to figure out a way to catch their enemy off guard.

 

* * *

 

Across the temple, the two boys in blue and green stop in their tracks as the walls around them illuminate.

“What’s going on?” Dewey asks, looking around somewhat wildly.

Louie shakes his head, “Dunno. But, if it’s something bad, we better not stick around.”

Dewey gestures a bit at the walls, “Everything’s lit up, Louie! There’s no where for us _to_ _go_!”

Louie raises an eyebrow and peers around them and down the straight corridor they had just been running down. Dewey was right, it was completely lit up and he wouldn’t be too surprised if it was like this for whole place.

“Why did we run back in here, again?”

 

* * *

 

At around the same time, not at all near the two boys, Scrooge McDuck slows to walking pace as the corridors turn blue, he twists around, watching the light travel down the way he came.

“Donald?” He mutters, and that’s all he says. _This isn’t quite right…_

Scrooge takes off in the direction the light came from.

 

* * *

 

“No sudden movements!” The guard says to Uncle Donald, though they didn’t seem to have any more weapons on them.

That fact didn’t make Huey any less scared. His shoulders were tense, on the verge of shaking. This wasn’t exactly the position he wanted to wind up in, but he needed to be strong, for Uncle Donald.

Donald shifts, just slightly, and the grip on Huey’s shoulders tightens.

“Don’t _move!”_ Huey could just catch the slight panic rising in their voice and he wondered if the guard couldn’t use their magic anymore, somehow, “I _kill_ _him_!” They shout, pulling Huey closer, and that just seemed to make Uncle Donald more angry.

But, even so, Uncle Donald backs up slightly. However, Huey only just notices his hand shift a little. _What is he doing?_ But, Huey sees it. Out of the corner of his eye, the light going dark in one section of the wall and traveling behind them. _A signal, maybe?_ When Huey sees it happen a second time he was almost sure of it’s purpose.

The guard gives a nervous laugh, backing up and bringing Huey with them, “That’s… That’s right! Just stay right there!”

Huey’s heart was starting to pound heavy in his chest. He swallows thickly, trying to think of some kind of plan to get free. He still had his survival knife in his hat, but the guard absolutely wouldn’t let him reach up. No way. Huey didn’t really like the idea of stabbing someone anyway. Then again, he’d bashed someone in the face earlier with a shovel so, at this point, was it just anything goes? Fight for your life or die trying? Huey shifts his weight to his other foot, exhaling heavily.

Uncle Donald takes a minute step forward, and the guard lets their tension get to them once more, “Back up! You don’t want your boy dead, do– Ack!” The guard at first squeezes, digging much more harshly into Huey’s shoulders, then lets go.

“Huey, go!”

_Uncle Scrooge?_

Huey scrambles forward and Uncle Donald holds out an arm to him. Huey runs to him and Uncle Donald’s arm curls around him protectively. Huey turns just in time to see Uncle Scrooge let go of the guard.

“NOW!”

Donald’s free hand shoots out, slamming into the neighboring wall, the light twists wildly, turning the entire hall almost entirely shifting blue, the magic converges on the panicking guard. It wraps around them, lifting them off their feet. They start kicking their feet wildly, screaming nonsense. Abruptly, the floor opens up, and they’re unceremoniously dropped, the floor closing up once more. Likely dropped not far to a lower floor? At least, Huey thought there were lower floors? He decided not to think about it too much.

“Good job, lad!” Scrooge calls as he makes his way to them. The lights dying away. Scrooge hesitates when his eyes meet Huey’s. “… Huey… What happened to you?” He kneels down to Huey’s level, Uncle Donald doing the same thing.

Huey blinks, “What do you mean?” His arm was hurt, but that was it, wasn’t it?

Huey lifts his arm up, examining it for a moment, the feathers on his arm were crusted and stiff with dried blood, the actual cut not bleeding anymore. It would need to be cleaned, disinfected, stitched… But, it wasn’t too bad.

Uncle Donald and Scrooge share a look, and then return their attention to Huey.

“Huey…” Uncle Donald starts, but doesn’t seem to really know what to say. He pulled his backpack off of his back and begins going through it.

Huey looks at Uncle Scrooge.

Uncle Scrooge stumbles for a moment over his words, and then stops to think for a moment, “Lad… You’re… You do know that you’re _covered_ in blood, right?”

“Could you have said that any worse?” Uncle Donald asks, stopping his backpack search to glare at Scrooge. He turns to Huey, cupping his face and tilting his head up, he looks closely, specifically at his beak, “Huey, you have blood all over your face and clothes.” Donald pauses, “And… your beak is cracked and crusted over.”

Huey’s eyes widen but before he can say anything Scrooge scoffs, “How was _that_ any better?” Uncle Donald shoots him another glare before going back to looking over Huey’s beak.

“My beak is cracked?” He says it almost thoughtfully. Huey was slowly becoming more and more aware of the dull ache in his face.

Uncle Donald nods, pulling out a first aid kit and a few cloths and towels from his backpack, “Sit down, we need to get you cleaned up.”

“We should clean his beak first, eh, lad?”

Uncle Donald pauses in thought for a long moment before giving a somewhat reluctant nod, he rolls up a thick towel and pats it, “Huey, lay down.”

Huey hesitates. _Won’t this hurt?_ He swallows thickly before laying down. Huey was nervous now. Tense. His eyebrows furrow as Uncle Donald and Scrooge whisper between themselves for a moment. Uncle Donald goes back to rifling through his over-stuffed backpack and pulls out a water bottle and then moves on to pulling supplies out of the first aid kit.

Scrooge is handed a small towel and he folds it up, he covers Huey’s eyes with it, his tension only increasing in the sudden darkness. Huey expects Scrooge’s hand to pull away but instead, he seems to put more and more pressure on the base of his beak and eyes.

There’s a moment of total silence before Uncle Donald presses a kiss to Huey’s forehead and says something he doesn’t quite catch.

“Ready?” Scrooge asks.

“… Yeah.”

Huey gasps as lukewarm water is splashed on his beak, shirt, and face. Uncle Scrooge increases the pressure, Huey’s throat closes up. Then, pain, _blinding_ pain erupts in his face. Huey’s hand latches on to Scrooge’s arm and he squeezes tightly, but it doesn’t do anything to help, no matter how hard he squeezes the pain won’t stop.

“ _That hurts!_ ” Huey knew he shouldn’t move but, he finds himself trying to move away, “ _Stop!_ _It hurts!_ ”

“I’m sorry, Huey! We can’t… We can’t let it get infected.” Donald pleads gently from somewhere in the dark.

In the darkness, Huey searches for Uncle Donald’s arm, and eventually he grabs his arm, too, though it does nothing to stop Uncle Donald from cleaning the dried blood. He was crying now, yelling, and Huey could hear his own voice echoing in the halls of the temple. He was only somewhat aware, through the pain, of the blood running down his beak.

“More pressure!” Donald says, and Scrooge does as he says.

That only made the pain worse. He struggles and feels a hand press down on his chest to hold him still. Suddenly the pain dies down, replaced with a dull ache.

“Is that all you have?” Scrooge asks, concern evident in his voice. Huey doesn’t hear a response from Uncle Donald. “Well… Sorry about this, laddie…” _Sorry?_ Scrooge’s free hand shifts from Huey’s chest to holding his mouth closed.

Before Huey can discern what they’re trying to do, more liquid is splashed on his beak and this time pain far worse than before explodes in his face and spreads this time. Huey tries to scream only for it to go muffled, kicking his legs weakly. His grip on his uncles’ arms tightens as his face is gently wiped down and then he relaxes as a cooling sensation replaces the searing pain. Something is pressed, firmly, to where Huey presumes the crack is. Then, Uncle Scrooge lets him go.

Huey sits up slowly, feeling particularly frazzled, he gives his head a quick shake. He very carefully rubs at his face, wincing at the soreness of it.

The patching up of his arm goes much more smoothly, though they, unfortunately, didn’t have any way of stitching it up. Soon enough his arm was wrapped up, and Huey was sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall. Hands clutching tightly to a lukewarm bottle of water. Uncle Donald joins him after a brief discussion with Uncle Scrooge Huey really didn’t have the energy to pay attention to.

“Are you okay…?” Uncle Donald asks after an awkward silence.

“Uh…” Huey starts, then spends a moment contemplating his bottle of water, “I’ve felt better?”

Uncle Donald sighs and wraps an arm around him. Huey is quick to lean into him, anything was better than the cold wall. He quickly finds himself falling asleep and in the midst of it, he starts to tell Uncle Donald something he should have said sooner.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Donald.”

“For… For what?” Donald asks, confusion evident in his voice.

Huey is at a loss for words, trying to figure out to say what he had to, “For… Well, for getting angry at you and… thinking you lied to me.” When Uncle Donald doesn’t respond, he continues, “You know, Webby told me. She told me about the–”

Huey is cut off and even worse, jolted to full alertness as the temple erupts into a screeching rumble. Uncle Donald jumps to his feet, bringing Huey with him. Being jerked suddenly upright makes his head throb, he gives a small groan.

Scrooge was wobbling on his feet, “What in the–”

“What’s happening?!”

 

* * *

 

Dewey and Louie stop in their tracks, or rather, are forced to stop as both fall on their faces. Dewey is first to pull himself up. Louie follows an instant later.

“What the heck is going on?!” Dewey yells with disregard to both of their safety, but really, at this point, in didn’t matter. He very thoroughly regretted running back in here. It couldn’t get all _that_ much worse.

“I don’t know!” Louie snaps with mild irritation. Abruptly the rumbling and screech stop. Louie frowns, looking around rubbing his chin, “What’s with this place? It wasn’t like this _before_ …”

Dewey gives himself a shake after he pulls himself to his feet, “I don’t know anymore than you do, Louie.” With those words, he helps Louie up.

Once he does, a decidedly different rumble starts. An earth shaking roar erupts around them, lighting up the walls, much to Dewey’s disappointment. Before they can do anything, as abrupt as the roar itself, the floor opens up below them and they fall, yelling into the inky darkness.

 

* * *

 

Huey, Donald, and Scrooge had started running as soon as the second rumble started, Huey being pulled in a hurry by the hand. When the floor falls out from below them, they don’t fall like Huey expects, when he opens his eyes he finds all of them surrounded by Uncle Donald’s blue glow.

“Good… Good catch, there, lad.” Uncle Scrooge says after the tension dies down a bit.

Uncle Donald nods stiffly.

Unfortunately, after less than a minute of floating there, with the floor still open below them, the roar starts once again. This time a barely tangible wave rolls over them.

“Uh oh.” Is all Uncle Donald says, any further intelligible words replaced by strangled garbling as he desperately tries to keep them afloat. A losing battle as less than twenty seconds after the last roar, they find themselves dropping like rocks.

Uncle Donald dives towards Huey, wrapping him tightly in his arms as they fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might as well be titled "Huey needs a goddamn nap".  
> Also, yes, that's right! The temple just kind of moves all on it's own, it's kind of like a constantly shifting puzzle cube and Donald gets as lucky with it as he's ever gonna get in this chapter and probably the rest of the story. The guards in this place just wander aimlessly, that or Donald's bad luck is manifesting in a different way. Or maybe there's more to it than that.


	7. The Gem in the Wall

Louie and Dewey hit the ground hard. Louie groans, he really hated this place.

“Louie! Louie, you okay?” Dewey was up already, of course.

Honestly, Louie just wished Huey was here, too. What if he had a concussion or something? Dewey probably wouldn’t know what to do if he did. Huey absolutely would. Dewey’s surprised him before, though. He didn’t think he had a concussion anyway. He just wanted to _leave_.

Louie pushes himself up, “Yea–” Louie’s beak closes slowly, his eyes widening. “Dew– Dewey…”

Behind Dewey was a huge monster. Eyes glowing brightly. It shakes itself, clanging loudly, and Louie realizes that it likely wasn’t organic.

Dewey raises an eyebrow, “What?” He turns, jumping back when he sees the monster, yelping in surprise, “What is that?!”

“I don’t know.” Louie responds and he pushes himself to his feet.

The monster takes a heavy step forward, letting out another earth shaking roar, similar to what brought them down here in the first place. Louie goes to cover his ears, but instead finds himself being wrenched into a run by Dewey.

“While it’s doing that, let’s get a head start!” Dewey says, confidently, but stops suddenly. Louie very quickly figures out why. No exits. There weren’t any exits to speak of.

“ _Aaaaahhh!_ ”

“ _Huey!_ ”

Louie’s and Dewey’s attention is brought upward. Watching as Uncle Donald and Scrooge fall from above, the light from the walls lashes out, yellow and perhaps a hint of red. The yellow tendrils wrap around them and pull them in and Louie’s gaze follows, watching as they’re pulled forcibly into an alcove and bars rise up fast from the floor, trapping their uncles. _Of course. Of course that_ had _to happen._ Louie rubs his face, sighing, vaguely aware of Dewey saying something about Huey from somewhere near him.

“ _What now?_ ” he grumbles, mostly to himself.

“Louie, move!” Louie couldn’t be bothered to actually figure out who yelled that as he’s pulled out of the path of the monster, it racing past him much too close for comfort.

Uncle Donald freaks out, shaking the bars, but it didn’t really seem to _do_ anything. Scrooge joining in not a moment later. With that, the chase begins.

 

* * *

 

 

They fall from up high. Magical tendrils reaching out to Donald and Scrooge, pulling them in. Pulling Huey from Donald’s protective embrace.

Once let go, Huey hits the ground hard, his vision dimming for a brief moment. Only to be pulled back to being fully awake when yelling, no, _screaming_ , invades his hearing. Huey sits up fast and the first thing he becomes aware of was his position. He was on a platform protruding out the wall, an arena a couple dozen feet below him. The walls were glowing a light yellow, almost white.

The second thing he notices is the large quadrupedal beast down below him, it seemed to be made of metal or stone, held together by the same glow of the walls. The third is his brothers. Who were currently being chased by said monster, and they quite literally had no where to go.

“ _DEWEY! LOUIE!_ ” Huey hears Uncle Donald yell from somewhere down below, eventually he spots a cage on the very edge of the arena and the arms of both Scrooge and Uncle Donald pulling desperately at the bars.

Unusually, the glow was particularly focused there and Huey quickly realizes it was preventing the use of magic as Uncle Donald tries to fire a blast through the bars. Huey’s attention goes back to his brothers just in time to watch Dewey shove Louie out of the path of the monster before diving just barely out of the way himself. The monster’s tail whips out, grabbing Dewey by the ankle and flinging him across the arena. He hits the ground sliding and Huey’s heart skips.

_I have to do something._ But, what could he do, that thing was huge. Huey looks around, twisting around to look behind him. Spotting an alcove in the wall, emitting a much less bright glow. Huey crawls to it, peering into it. In the alcove was a small, thin, rectangular gem. Huey stares at it for a long moment. This wasn’t a natural gem formation, of course, it had to have been put there, but why? Huey couldn’t help but be almost drawn to it. Maybe it was the color, it was a deep crimson that seemed to shift  every so often  the longer he stared at it.  Maybe it was something else.

“ _Dewey!”_

At the yell, Huey turns just in time to watch the monster knock into Dewey and then turn it’s attention to Louie. It charges after him and cuts off his route, knocking into him much like it did to Dewey. Louie is sent rolling but scrambles to his feet fast, Dewey grabbing his hand and pulling him along before he even gets any good footing. His uncles’ were still yelling.

Huey’s jaw clenches, ignoring the way it stings when he does. _Something. Do something!_ He turns back around, flinching at the yelp from down below he hears when he does. Huey’s eyes meet the gem in the wall once again. This time he reaches out, small fingers curling around it tightly and he pulls with both hands. He swears it’s warm when he grabs the gem, even though the smooth surface of it should be cold. Eventually, he manages to yank it out of the wall, falling backwards when he does. He sits up, hands opening to look at the gem, it’s glow much brighter than when it was embedded in the wall. This time, it was pulsating with energy and he could feel it, warm against his face, unlike the cold that seemed to be emanating from the walls.

“Boys, you have to run!” Uncle Scrooge calls.

Huey scrambles to his feet, down below, Dewey and Louie’s backs were to the cage; the monster approaching with slow, agonizing, _triumphant_ steps. _No!_ Huey’s heart begins to pound with fear and anger. His face twisting with a mixture of both. Huey’s hand clenches tightly around the gem, the gentle warmth of it turning to searing heat. The monster rears back. _NO!_ And something unlocks inside him.

“ _HEY!_ ” Huey leans forward as he yells as loud as he can.

The screaming and roaring stop. All eyes were on him. And Huey backs up in confusion as the oddly cold yellow is over-ridden with bright warm red, covering the walls of the circular room fast. Every symbol, every word, every image, lighting up one by one as fast as the eye can follow. The glow wrapping around to cover _him_ from head to toe, Huey staring at his arms as it does. _Is… this?_

Huey doesn’t have time to contemplate how he did this. Other than the fact that he felt so much more energetic now. The moment the beast turns it’s attention back to his brothers, Huey’s arm was already rearing back, all of his focus going to that one specific point. He swings his arm forward with all his might, as if he were throwing something. The fiery blast flies fast, hitting the beast in the side. _BA-BOOM!_

Dewey and Louie are quick to take cover as the beast topples briefly, before both take off towards the other end of the arena. Dewey yelling something in surprise, though Huey doesn’t quite catch what he says. The monster gets up quick and follows, and Huey finds himself moving without much thought, he jumps off the platform, though quickly realizes he had no idea how to make himself float or even if he could. He braces himself for the landing that never comes, and finds the blue surrounding him once again. Looking to the cage Uncle Donald was in, his arm was as far through the bars as he could manage, his hand glowing slightly, and he sets Huey down easily. Huey gives him a grateful thumbs up. Uncle Donald smiles.

Huey’s attention shifts to the monster and he rubs the bottom of his beak. _What is it_ made of _?_ He wasn’t too sure. He didn’t know if that mattered at all, either.

“Dewey!”

“Yeaaaaah?” Dewey calls back to him as he jumps and rolls away from the beast.

“Any idea what this thing is made of?” It seemed almost made of metal, but it’s steps sounded more like stone.

“Uuuuuuuuh?” Dewey stops to contemplate that and Louie seems to appear out of nowhere next to him and gives him a rough shove out of the path of the monster.

“Metal!” Louie yells, holding a hand up to his mouth, his head tilts slightly, “Why? Also… What’s up with you?”

“Just wondering!” Huey calls back, he turns and runs to where Uncle Donald and Scrooge are, “Uncle Donald! Is there any way we can stop that thing? Louie says it’s made of metal, but I’m not sure if that helps at all…”

“Probably not…” Uncle Scrooge says, rubbing his chin, “But… Usually automatons like that beastie there, have a core in the center.”

Huey raises an eyebrow, he turns and looks at the animalistic automaton. It’s back was to them and he notes that the yellow glow was particularly focused between a fairly wide gap between it’s shoulder blades. Huey smiles as a possible plan of action forms in his mind.

“Uncle Scrooge, that gap between it’s shoulders likely leads to the core, right?” Huey points at what he’s referring to.

Scrooge considers that for moment, squinting at the monster, before nodding, “Probably.”

Huey grins, “And… If something hits it, it’ll stop moving, is that right?”

Uncle Donald scratches his head, “Most likely…” He says, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. It was a possibility, a very likely possibility. And that’s all Huey really needed.

Huey turns on his heel, “I’ve got an idea!” He calls back to them as they shout after him, “Dewey! Louie! Distract it as much as you can, try to keep it from moving too much, and keep it’s back to me!”

Dewey and Louie look at him and then each other, Louie shrugs, Dewey smiles and nods.

“Can do!” Dewey calls, giving a confident thumbs up.

Huey smiles and his brothers start to yell at it, shouting anything they can think of, throwing any small rocks they can find. The result surprisingly effective. The beast unsure of who to pay attention to. While it’s distracted, Huey runs up behind it, waiting for it’s tail to lower far enough for him to reach, and when it does, he jumps up and grabs the end tightly. The automaton, thankfully and according to plan, doesn’t turn it’s attention to him. Instead acknowledging his presence by tensing it’s tail and then flinging him high, straight up into the air.

Huey only had one shot, most likely this maneuver wasn’t going to work on it again. Huey focuses the energy surrounding him to the very center of his palm, aiming as precisely as he can, trying to compensate for the trajectory of the shot, like shooting an arrow on a windy day. He fires as he falls lower, hitting the gap near dead center, though perhaps a bit too high. As he lands, only somewhat gracefully mind you, the automaton screeches, followed by a bright flash of light. Huey’s arms instinctively coming up to cover his eyes. When he lowers his arms, he watches as it shakes violently, before going dark and crumbling into a heap.

There’s a long beat of silence, the only noise was of the bars of the prison keeping Uncle Donald and Scrooge trapped lowering slowly.

As it sinks in that they won, Dewey throws his arm up in the air, “ _Whoo_! That was awesome!”

At the same time, Louie tucks his hands in his hoodie pocket, “Huh. That was surprisingly easy.” He seemed about as surprised as Huey felt.

Huey gives a relieved laugh, “It worked! It worked!” Smiling brightly when he spots his brothers picking their way over to him. “Dewey! Louie!”

Before they can say anything about his current state, and they wanted to, considering the looks on their faces, Huey surges forward, tackling them when they get close enough. He wraps his arms tightly around the both of them, pulling them into the biggest hug he can muster. He’d missed them. Neither of them seemed to be all too hurt either, and that just made him more happy. Huey was the only one that got really hurt, and that was good enough for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so late! I had this moment planned for over two months, this is where the story truly begins.  
> Also, to point something out, the beastie being made of metal was actually pretty important, Huey's magic shot at the core wouldn't have worked if it had been made of stone.  
> Feedback is always appreciated!


	8. Plunging into Darkness

“What do we do now?” Uncle Donald asks Uncle Scrooge, taking an aggressive step towards him, “And _you_ have some explaining to do. What is this place? Why would you bring the boys to a magical temple, let alone _willingly_?”

“ _Look_ …” Uncle Scrooge starts.

Huey listens quietly, only for his attention to be torn away by his brother’s stares, “What?”

Dewey takes a step towards him, reaching a tentative hand out and poking Huey on the beak. The pain he had forgotten about runs sharply up his beak, he yelps at the pain and jumps back.

Huey’s brow furrows as he gives his head a quick shake, “What was that for?!” At Huey’s angry shout, Donald and Scrooge go silent, their attention turning to the triplets.

“I was just seeing what was wrong!” Dewey shouts, crossing his arms.

“You could have just _asked_ , Dewford!” Huey shouts back.

“Jeez, not a quiet moment, is there?” Louie mumbles, a bit louder he says, “Just… _What the heck_ …?”

“What?!” Huey and Dewey demand together. Turning back to each other with angry glares when they realize they had spoke in unison.

“Huey, you uh. Have a thing.” Louie says less than eloquently, his eyes following something that the adults soon notice, but Huey and Dewey have yet to see. Huey and Dewey glance at each other.

“What?” Huey raises an eyebrow but is quick to become aware of it as it passes between his and Dewey’s faces.

He jumps back, head turning to follow the very same crimson gem he had pulled out of the wall not 15 minutes earlier as it floats behind him. It passes back in front of him a moment later and Huey grabs it, holding it between his fingers in front of his face. He turns his confused gaze to Uncle Donald. Uncle Donald’s eyebrows furrow mildly and he kneels in front of him, staring at the gem.

“Where did you get this?” Donald asks.

“It was up there,” Huey points to the ledge, letting go of the gem and watching in mild confusion and wonder as it simply suspends in midair and continues it’s moon-like orbiting around his body, “Why does it do that?”

Uncle Donald scratches his head, knocking his sailor cap to the other side of his head, “I’m not sure…”

“It looks like it’s bonded to him, lad.” Uncle Scrooge says and Uncle Donald looks at him with wide eyes.

“But, that’s…” Donald goes quiet, giving his head a quick shake, “No.”

“We’ll figure it all out when we get home, now isn’t really the time.” Scrooge says, Uncle Donald closes his eyes warily and gives a minute nod.

Huey tilts his head, but decides to drop it as Uncle Donald goes back to talking with Scrooge. A few minutes pass as the triplets busy themselves with trying to figure out how the gem floats and telling each other what happened while they were separated. Their Uncles’ discussion a short distance away provides a light white noise.

“– _is just like_ _**Mt. Vesuvius**_ _!_ ” Uncle Donald screams abruptly, the boys go silent. Uncle Scrooge yelling back that it wasn’t and that that was different. The mention of the mountain seems to pique Dewey’s curiosity and he faces them, listening quietly to the shouting match for a minute or two, turning back to Huey and Louie when no further discussion about it occurs.

Eventually, Uncle Donald turns away from Scrooge and begins to feel the walls. Scrooge doing the same across the arena. The triplets move quickly to join them in the search, though they don’t search for long before they hear Uncle Donald yell victoriously from across the arena.

Huey turns on his heel to witness a section of the wall open in front Uncle Donald. He, Dewey, and Louie take off towards him and when they get there, they collectively and nervously peer into the pitch black tunnel that has been opened up. Beyond the darkness, they could hear muffled noises.

Louie lightly elbows Dewey in the side, “We should have left when we were out earlier.”

Dewey shrugs.

 

Soon enough the group was plunging into the darkness, all of them quick to realize that they didn’t have a flashlight, at least not a working one. When Uncle Donald tries to light the tunnel up, Scrooge stops him, telling him it might alert the inhabitants of the temple. Although, Huey figured it was too late for that now. The only light source was the mild glow of the gem circling around him.

“Uncle Scrooge, what is this place, anyway? You never told us.” Huey says eventually, his voice echoing in the darkness, and Uncle Scrooge gives a heavy sigh.

“I guess, I should explain.” Uncle Scrooge says after a few seconds, going quiet as a loud boom rumbles the temple, “This temple… It doesn’t have a name. It’s practically a magical artifact in and of itself!”

Huey’s eyebrows furrow, although Scrooge can’t see that, “Is that why people can just use magic so freely in here?”

“That’s right, lad.” Scrooge says, “It’s popular among magical beings across dimensions. Though, most cannae find it.”

“Why?” Dewey chimes in.

“Well... every, say... 50 to 500 years, it moves.” Uncle Scrooge says, a twinge of reluctance to his voice.

Huey stops in his tracks, Dewey running roughly into him, “Are you serious? It changes it’s location?”

“That’s right.” Scrooge says, a weird tone to his voice, “It only recently moved here, in the past decade or so." A bit quieter he says, "Wasn’t sure where it was at first…”

Huey slaps his face. _That’s_ why the locals didn’t know anything? He wasted money on that stupid paperback. He shakes his head and keeps walking.

“ _That’s_ why you said we were going ‘somewhere’?!” Louie demands from the back, “Why didn’t you just _tell us_?”

Scrooge doesn’t dignify that outburst with a response, though Huey had a feeling he knows why he didn’t tell them sooner. In fact, Scrooge doesn’t say anything else, apparently not feeling like elaborating any further on the nature of the temple. He supposed maybe there wasn’t too much else to say.

“So, why are we here, anyway?” Dewey asks, eventually.

“That doesn’t matter,” Uncle Scrooge says, somewhat sharply, they all take a turn.

Huey realizes that Uncle Donald wasn’t saying much of anything, unsure of why his uncle had nothing to say about any of this. And he wasn't gone, Huey could vaguely feel the magical energy emanating off of him. Huey didn't know how he could do that, and his mind was spinning with questions about his new found magical abilities. He wondered what sorts of things he could do. In another part of his mind, he was curious about what Uncle Donald and Scrooge were fighting about earlier, and although he was kicking himself for not listening in a little more, he doesn’t speak up about it. He had a feeling in his gut that it would only make things worse.

They walk a little longer before they reach a dead end, or it seems like it at first. The tunnel lights up blue very briefly and there’s a small rumble of a hidden door opening up. Light from the torches that lined the walls all over the temple streams in, making his eyes burn.

Huey stands up on his tiptoes, peering just barely over Uncle Scrooge’s shoulder, the walls of the temple were different, different patterns and colors for one thing. He figured this was a different section, possibly with a different purpose. It made his stomach churn, hopefully there weren’t any more of those automatons. Hopefully, they would find another exit or a way to the top floor.

"Oh, _phooey._ "

Suddenly, Uncle Donald slams the door shut, lighting the walls up very briefly, he backs up rapidly, “Everyone move back!”

Huey stumbles backwards, feeling Dewey’s hands grip his shoulders. They were backing up as fast as they could. Huey feels a hint of panic rising in his chest.

“What’s going on?!” Louie asks, just as a light similar to the automaton’s before lights up the walls.

A split second after the light shines there’s a blinding flash resembling lightning and the wall that was there a moment before is gone with it; debris flying everywhere in a somewhat bizarre fashion. In their shocked silence, the tunnel roars with a rumble like thunder, echoing hauntingly in the narrow tunnels behind them. Huey freezes, his heart dropping to his stomach. Suddenly feeling his feet being swept off the ground, and, in a matter of seconds, they were going back the way they came. Just as they had found a way to maybe find an exit.

They all plunge back into darkness together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this one being a bit short! I'm probably going to have an extra chapter or two between this and the next part in the temple, depending on what gets done first!
> 
> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!


	9. One Could Truly Wonder

Huey was being cradled in Scrooge’s arms as he runs, Dewey and Louie somewhere up ahead, scrambling blindly in the narrow tunnels. Huey peeks over Scrooge’s shoulder, watching in amazement as Uncle Donald collapses the tunnel to block the path of whatever was in pursuit.

It doesn’t hold it back for long though and soon Huey could hear the horrible metallic screech of it scraping against the stone walls and in the dark could see sparks and light in the distance. But, mostly, he could see Uncle Donald doing his best to keep up with them, occasionally turning to try and divert their enemy.

The blue of Uncle Donald’s magic travels up next to them, along one side, partially illuminating the tunnel. Up ahead, a door opens up and Huey spots Dewey and Louie veer through, him and Scrooge doing the same the moment they catch up. It shuts before Uncle Donald can follow after them.

“Uncle Donald!” Huey jumps out of Scrooge’s arms, slamming his fists where the opening used to be. Louie puts a hand on his shoulder, although he doesn’t say anything, “ _Uncle Donald!_ ” Huey calls once more.

Scrooge brushes past them, Dewey following, grabbing his sleeve, “We should keep moving, boys. We’ll catch up with Donald later.”

“But…” Dewey starts, he looks down at the floor.

Before anymore is said, something crashes through the neighboring wall, between the two pairs. Another automaton sliding to a stop between them, though it was decidedly smaller than the other one, with a shorter tail. Though it was facing Uncle Scrooge and Dewey, it whirls around to face Huey and Louie. Huey could feel its eyes on him, burning to his very core. It gives an aggressive huff and Huey finds himself grabbing Louie by the wrist and running the other way as fast as he can. Once Louie was running, _keeping up_ , Huey lets go and pushes him to the front. But, much to his surprise, Louie reaches back and grabs him by the hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Louie asks, his voice calm, although his hand was soaked in sweat, “I’m not leaving you.” Louie looks at him, a nervous smile on his face and Huey smiles brightly back.

They turn a corner fast, the boys keeping each other from falling down, the beast crashing into the wall in it’s pursuit. Huey reaches out, grabbing the floating gem tightly in his hand, he focuses, trying to think of what he could do. The glow focuses to his fist and on instinct and a hopefulness that it would work, he slams his fist into the wall as they run. Huey turns his head as that particular section of wall lights up and explodes shortly after, knocking the beast over. Not exactly what he expected, but at least it worked.

“Ha-hah!” He shouts, throwing a fist into the air, Louie laughing with relief from his left. Huey squeezes his hand.

The relief vanishes as they turn a corner into a dead end shortly after, and the beast catches up, cornering them.

Huey barely hears Louie swear under his breath over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. Louie squeezes his hand deathly tight. They turn around as the beast walks slowly towards them. Louie spies something on the ground, which Huey recognizes as the useless paperback. _It must have fallen down here earlier._

Louie throws it at the monster, who much to their surprise, vaporizes it before it even strikes. Huey’s shoulders sag. As if that book wasn’t already a waste of good paper, it was losing 2 to 1 and now it didn’t even exist anymore.

“It can do that?!” Louie demands, looking at him with wide eyes, Huey could feel him shaking, “Why can it do that?!”

Huey lets go of Louie’s hand in the heat of the moment, pushing his younger brother behind him. Shielding him. Louie's hands grip his shoulders tightly as Huey musters up all of his bravery and protectiveness from deep inside his heart, a glare settling on his face. Staring the monster down. His hands balled tightly into fists, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He takes a small step forward, despite that.

When the monster lunges, Huey’s hands come up instinctively, his eyes squeezing shut. _Clang!_ Huey opens his eyes, gasping in surprise at the semi-transparent red shield he had conjured up, the magic cracking slowly as the beast repeatedly bangs its face against it. The red gem was spinning around him at a much faster speed.

“You can do that?” Louie asks, surprise evident in his voice.

“I guess!” Huey says, he was just as surprised as his brother was. It was breaking fast and Huey had no idea what to do, if he could reinforce it. It breaks. And Huey grabs Louie and rushes past the monster as it shakes its head. They run back out into the hallway, running the opposite way they came.

Louie whirls around, slowing down slightly, “Wait!” Huey spins around at Louie's exclamation, watching as the automaton starts to pick up speed, something was holding on to it’s tail, now.

“DEWEY!” Huey and Louie both shout, panic rising in both of their chests.

The monster’s tail flings Dewey forward, the boy landing dazed on it’s back, he picks himself up quick, raising something above his head. A spear that looked like it had been broken in half. Dewey drives it downward, into the joint where the leg meets the hip. The affected leg goes stock still and the monster crashes to a stop, Dewey holding on for dear life. When Dewey regains his footing, he wrenches the spear out of the leg and hefts into the air, driving it down into the magical core, shattering it with a satisfying echo.

“Nice!” Huey shouts, jumping up, punching a fist into the air, “Good job, Dewey!” He sees Louie relax out of the corner of his eye, Huey pats him on the shoulder with a smile.

When Dewey walks up, he has a big smile on his face, Huey wraps him up in a tight, if brief, hug.

“That was amazing!” Huey tells him, Dewey laughing as Huey shakes him gently by the shoulders.

“Yeah.” Louie says, laughing, he gives Dewey a light punch on the arm.

“Oh, Uncle Scrooge!” Huey calls once he turns away from Dewey, spotting him running down the hall towards them, he throws a hand up in the air and gives a wave.

Scrooge stops once he gets close to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees, “You’ve got to stop running off, lad.” He tells Dewey, who gives a sheepish grin. Scrooge glances at the automaton, “Well, I guess this one’s taken care of.” Dewey doesn’t speak up about what exactly happened, although Huey expected him to. Huey nudges him, shooting him a smile, and Dewey smiles back.

“Are we going to go find Uncle Donald?” Huey asks. As Huey asks that, he spots a third automaton turn the corner at the far end of the corridor.

Uncle Scrooge opens his mouth, but closes it as he, presumably, hears a metallic clanging and sees the expressions on the triplets' faces, he turns around to see the beast charging towards them, “Well, I guess we have our answer.”

The boys turn and run, Scrooge following after them, “Why do they find us so easily?!” Huey demands as they run straight ahead.

Scrooge rubs his beak, and says, “I think it’s that gem you’ve got, lad.”

Huey looks at him incredulously, feeling almost insulted, “What?”

“Something about it, maybe…” Uncle Scrooge thinks over how to say it, “It seems to really rile up those metallic beasties, the one from earlier went straight for you, lad.”

“The one in the arena didn’t go for him, though!” Dewey says, and he was right, it didn’t.

“That one may have known better. You and Louie were distracting it, weren’t you?” Scrooge says, sounding somewhat annoyed.

“Yeah, but… It still doesn’t make sense,” Louie says, Huey notes that he looked like he was starting to get tired. Louie glares at Scrooge anyway.

Huey thinks the situation over. _It didn’t make sense. Or maybe…_ “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be taken from the arena? And now they’re trying to take it back?”

Scrooge nods thoughtfully, “Perhaps. Most likely.” Huey wondered if he knew more than they did.

“Why would they want one little rock so bad?” Louie grumbles under his breath.

Up ahead, Uncle Donald slides to a stop at a small junction, he looks at them and wilts, “Another one?” He didn't look too worse for wear, Huey relaxing a bit, relieved that Uncle Donald was mostly okay.

They all come to a stop in front of Uncle Donald, “Yes, another one,” Uncle Scrooge’s voice was low with dissatisfaction.

“Shouldn't we, you know, keep moving?” Louie asks, looking nervously behind them.

And they do, they keep moving, the automaton chasing after them incessantly. Huey and probably everyone else was getting tired of it. Uncle Donald mentioning as they go that he didn’t find a staircase of any kind, said over the sound of the corridors and walls and even parts of the floor and ceiling crashing down behind them in their attempts to lose it. It wouldn’t leave. Maybe it really did want that gem back.

It made Huey wonder what sort of secrets it held, what it’s true nature was, and why the inhabitants of this unnamed temple, organic or otherwise wanted it to stay here. Why the temple itself seemed to have shifted so they could never leave, or they couldn’t leave until that gem was returned.

“ _That’s it!_ ” Uncle Donald yells in frustration as he causes another wall to crash down behind them, “ _We’re leaving!_ _I’m_ making _an exit!_ ”

“Wait, Donald–” Uncle Scrooge starts, although he seems to realize there was no stopping him now, Donald pointedly ignores him, anyhow. Huey figures Scrooge was going to say something about how they shouldn't destroy the temple any further, but considering the fact that it was practically crumbling apart around them, it didn't really matter much at this point.

Donald charges to the front of the group. And does exactly what he said he was going to do, he blows a hole into the side of the temple. The light blue smoke clearing to show the outside, the dark sky and stars visible above the treetops. Uncle Scrooge makes a strangled noise, like he wasn’t expecting that at all. It was odd, to Huey at least, an odd stroke of good luck. Though, maybe it was bad luck in some other way. On the other hand, Uncle Donald could break his bad luck when they really needed it. And they had needed it now.

Uncle Donald jumps out and they all follow, as they fall, he uses short bursts of magic to slow their descent. It takes Huey a long moment to realize how weird that was. _Weren’t they on the lowest floor?_ Huey twists around to look, his eyes go wide when he sees what was really going on, the temple was now hovering over 200 feet off the ground. Shifting oddly, making much different shapes than the more natural one it held before, ones Huey wondered were physically possible, especially with the size of the temple and how nothing seemed to match up quite right.

He yelps as the temple abruptly blips out of existence, and he hears Uncle Scrooge make a similar noise.

“That’s… The quickest it’s ever moved.” Uncle Scrooge whispers, Huey looking over to see him adjust his hat in surprise. He thought it was surprise, at least.

Huey hits the water of the river, plunging down deep, along with the rest of his family; and resurfaces pretty quick, pulling Louie up to the surface with him.

Louie coughs, “Thanks.”

Huey smiles as they work their way over to the shore, Uncle Donald reaching in to pull them up. Huey flops onto his back in the grass, staring up at the stars, breathing heavily. It felt good to be out of that place. It felt good to have fresh air. Everything was so great in that moment. He gives an airy laugh.

One could wonder if it would stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well, this got done faster than I expected. Donald can do anything he sets his mind to.
> 
> As always, feedback is very much appreciated!


	10. Love and Curses Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Huey's POV of when he was cursed, or part one, at least. I'll put a warning here that there is some non-graphic vomiting late in the chapter.

Huey wakes slowly that day; a day, or maybe two, following the night they were meant to go camping. Crawling over to the bunk ladder, he climbs down at a snail’s pace, noting as he goes down that Dewey was still asleep, so was Louie when he glances down. Huey slips and falls down the rest of the way, hitting the floor with an _ooof!_

He pulls himself to his feet and staggers to the bathroom to get ready for the day, somewhat thankful in the back of his mind that he usually woke up ahead of his brothers. Huey goes about his business ever so sluggishly in the bathroom, stopping when he gives himself a look in the mirror, midway through brushing his teeth.

His eyes were a bit on the sunken side and he looked horribly exhausted. As he stares, his image in the mirror begins to swirl then, _something_ appears behind him. He jumps, yelping in fright, and whirls around. Slamming the small of his back into the hard edge of the sink in an attempt to back away. Though nothing was there, he stays like that for a long time, staring off into space, his toothbrush abandoned on the floor.

“Huey?” Dewey’s voice cuts through his thoughts or lack thereof.

Huey jumps, his head whipping toward the door and Dewey at lightning speed, “Dewey! I saw...” Huey pauses. In all honesty, he didn’t want to say that he saw anything. He wanted to forget about it, “I saw, um, a spider?” He says, though the end of it went high-pitched, and really, he was bad at lying.

“You like spiders, though.” Dewey says, crossing his arms, “Are you okay?”

“Y–Yeah! I’m fine.”

Dewey raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t pry any further. Instead, he walks into the bathroom, and starts going about his business while Huey cleans his toothbrush and finishes brushing his teeth. Huey bails out of the bathroom once he’s done and heads back to their room. When Huey walks in, Louie was still sleeping and would probably stay that way for a little while longer. Dewey appears a minute later as Huey pulls his shirt on. He debates whether to ask Dewey if he actually brushed his teeth but drops it after not much thought.

As Huey leaves the room, Dewey follows fast, practically latching on to his side. Huey furrows his eyebrows, “What are you doing?”

“Going to go have breakfast, what are _you_ doing?” Dewey says with a cheeky grin on his face and Huey rolls his eyes, but doesn’t bother to object to the company.

When they finish breakfast, Huey manages to lose Dewey, even if he didn’t really intend to do so. Huey wasn’t sure what to do today, and he didn’t feel like he had the energy to do anything. Or if he really had anything _to_ do, he knew he always had something on his plate though, something to do with earning a badge or otherwise. He didn’t bother checking his calendar.

Eventually, Huey, though he doesn’t really realize it, takes it upon himself to wander aimlessly around the manor. As if in a trance. His head was beginning to swim, and his thoughts seemed lost to the void. He was slowly trudging up and down the stairs, wandering around the halls of whatever floor he was on and then moving to the next. Then doubling back when he would reach the top floor, doing the same thing, except in reverse order. For what was likely hours. Hours Huey wasn’t aware of.

If anyone saw him, he didn’t know. Saw him wandering slowly around like a lost ghost. Huey strays onto the top floor, stopping when he faces a long hallway that ended in a dead end. He stands there for a long moment, only husks of thoughts swimming around in his mind. Then, he takes a wary step forward, abruptly stopping his webbed foot midair, eyes going wide as his shadow stretches out the wrong way in front of him. His shadow was an inky black void that took up a narrow stretch of the floor and reached the far wall about 30 feet away from him. His eyes meet the uncomfortably red eyes at the end of the hall. His ears roar.

Huey expects himself to, at least, turn the other way and run. Call for someone. But, instead he walks forward, dropping to his knees at the dead end– his head dipped and shoulders sagged. As if his exhaustion was finally taking hold. Taking him somewhere else. He lifts his head to the shadow, seeing as it stretches all the way to the ceiling, clawed hands reaching down to stroke his feathers. He doesn’t flinch away at the touch.

“ _How are you feeling?”_ A voice he doesn’t recognize says, the voice sounding as if it were speaking through thick white static, “ _Do you_ still _like magic, boy?”_

Huey finds himself reaching his small hands out to the wall, pressing them firmly to it, watching somewhat apathetically as the darkness coils around his arms. Biting cold traveling up from where it envelopes him. He drags his hands down the wall, leaving the inkiness in their wake, “I don’t really know,” He breathes.

Webby finds him, a long time later. Finds him staring intently at the trim where the walls meet the floor, hands to his sides, and the shadow no where to be seen. He hadn’t budged an inch.

“Huey? Are you okay?” Webby asks, but it doesn’t really reach him. He was, by every stretch of the imagination, conscious and not at the same time. Aware but, entirely unaware as well. But, he could hear her. Whatever else that might be with him could hear her, too.

He can feel her presence near him, somewhere. But, even then, he continues to stare at the wall. She kneels down next to him, going to shake his shoulder, likely thinking that he was asleep. Stopping when she realizes he’s not. Instead she physically turns his head towards her.

“ _Huey?_ ” Webby’s eyes are somewhat wide when Huey’s meet hers.

He stares. He stares then he comes alive and when he does, he’s screaming, “Webby! The shadow! I saw it again! It spoke!” He grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her and pulling her up with him. Before Webby gets the chance to say anything and before he gets a chance to continue, he feels bile rise up in his throat. His hands shift from her shoulders fast to cover his beak.

Before he knows it, Webby is rushing him down the hall to get to a bathroom or trash can and the two wind up skittering to a hard stop as Huey vomits all over the floor. Thankfully, he doesn’t get any on him or Webby and they resume walking at a much slower pace, Webby gently rubbing his back. He murmurs to her that they should go back and clean that up and Webby simply shakes her head every time he pleads with her.

After a while of walking, Huey finds his consciousness fading, he rests his head on her shoulder. Telling her things. Anything. Whispering whatever came to mind, but though he was talking he couldn’t really make out what he was actually saying to Webby. When he glances up at her, she gives a nod, saying something about ‘not knowing’ whatever he happened to say. For some reason, it makes him feel a little better.

Webby leads him down to the first floor and drops him off with Louie, who was now awake and more or less busy watching TV. She tells Huey she’s going to go find her Granny and he nods. He sits there with Louie, who wasn’t paying much attention to him. Huey stares quietly at the TV, although he couldn’t focus on it. Eventually, Huey slumps heavily into Louie’s side.

Louie attempts at first to shrug him off, but stops once he gets a good look at Huey’s face, “Whoa, are you okay?” He pushes Huey into a sitting position, and Huey slowly shakes his head in response.

Huey stares at Louie.

And Louie stares at him, eventually his expression shifts to one of discomfort.

“Please blink.” Louie whispers.

Huey blinks. _He hadn’t been blinking?_

“ _Thank you_ ," Louie breathes, "Okay. Alright, uh… Do you want to go take a nap?” Louie asks after a moment, apparently still reeling from the fact that Huey wouldn’t blink. Huey shakes his head again, “Watch TV?”

While Huey doesn’t respond to that, they wind up doing exactly that, and for some reason, he felt cold. Eventually Huey snuggles in close to Louie, noting his hoodie smelled somewhat odd. He ignores it or rather doesn’t care too much, Louie was warm. He would have to help Louie with laundry later, if he remembered to. After several minutes, Huey falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd just toss this here, since it was ready.  
> 


	11. You Don't Get It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple quick notes about this chapter, all of the parts with Lena happen in one night. The rest of the chapter happens at various different time frames.

“How long are we going to wait here?” Magica grumbles almost childishly, “Shouldn’t you be looking for the dime?”

Lena rolls her eyes, resting an elbow on the couches arm rest, “If it’s so important, I doubt it would be left unattended.”

Her aunt groans loudly, “At least do _something_!”

“Like what, Aunt Magica?” Lena gives a lazy wave of the hand, “No one’s here.” The ghost butler probably thought she was crazy talking to herself, that is, if he couldn’t actually see Magica. And if he was actually keeping an eye on her at all.

Aunt Magica crosses her arms, “You could, I don’t know, do recon or something.”

“Reco–” Lena starts, interrupted as the ground suddenly shakes beneath her, making her wobble and brace herself. She sighs, “That’s probably them.”

Sure enough, it was. Scrooge, Donald, Huey, Dewey, and Louie burst in through the front door, although not necessarily in that order. Webby wasn’t with them. Lena’s shoulders sag, so where was she? Lena notices, though doesn’t pay much attention to the fact that Scrooge was holding a blue gem in his hands and talking in a grandiose manner about it. She doesn’t at all bother to listen.

“The red one,” Magica says quietly, an… interesting tone to her voice. “He’s no longer cursed. How?!”

Lena doesn’t react at first, but once she processes it, she turns fast, “You cursed him?!” Her voice a harsh whisper.

“Yeah. So? It didn’t stick as you can tell,” Magica’s eyes narrow in a particularly grumpy manner. Her gaze was following Huey, who didn’t seem to know what he wanted to do. Magica hums low.

“Lena?”

Lena jumps, her gaze whipping to Huey, who stood, head tilted, in front of her, “Oh! Hey, Red.”

Huey smiles warily, Lena wondered how much he actually liked her, they hadn’t got off on the right foot, “Webby isn’t home yet?” He asks.

Lena shakes her head, “I thought she was with you guys.” Now that Lena was really looking at Huey, she realized that he didn’t look too good. He had a bandage of some kind, covering an obvious crack in his bill. Another bandage on his left arm, “What happened to you?” None of the others seemed hurt, at least from what she had seen.

“Oh! Uh. Just had a rough day.” Huey says, rubbing his neck, “I thought Webby would be home by now, she left before we did.” Huey says, changing the subject, on purpose or not, Lena wasn’t sure.

“Y–Yeah.” Lena says, she kind of wanted Huey to elaborate on his injuries but he didn’t seem like he wanted to. Even if Huey’s talks tended to be long and lecture-y like Webby’s, it had to be an interesting story, right? Whatever.

“Well, anyway,” Huey leans forward, smiling at her, and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, “I’m sure no one will mind if you stay the night, I thiiiink Webby’ll be home in the morning.” He rubs his chin, looking away from her briefly.

“Do you feel that?” Magica whispers, suddenly, in her ear. Lena jumps slightly.

Much to her, and likely Aunt Magica’s, surprise, Huey whips his head back to face her, eyes wide, “What… What was that?”

“What, uh, do you mean? I didn’t say anything…” Lena says, grinding out the words, feeling sweat forming on her forehead. She gives him a nervous grin.

“No, no, I…” Huey looks around, even peering behind Lena, “I felt something.”

“Oh! Uh…” Lena’s rubs the back of her neck as she thinks of something quick, “Maybe it was the butler?”

Huey stares at her, “It felt a lot different than Duckworth…” Huey crosses his arms, looking around the dimly lit TV room with suspicion.

Lena swallows thickly and takes a small step towards him, making a shoo-ing gesture with her hands, “You’re imagining things. Go take a nap or something.”

Huey rolls his eyes, not at all discreetly mind you, “Yeah, yeah.” He gives a small wave as he walks away.

Lena’s chest heaves as she lets out a big sigh of relief. Huey had made it surprisingly easy to get rid of him. Her shadow expands and darkens, forming the shape of her aunt. Aunt Magica’s eyes were narrowed with a certain seriousness Lena didn’t see often. It doesn’t take her long to realize she was glaring after Huey.

“What’s your problem?” Lena asks, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one foot.

“Did you feel it or not?” Magica says, crossing her arms as well, at least, as far as Lena could tell. It could be hard to distinguish at times.

“Feel what?”

Eye roll.

“Did you at least see it?” Magica gestures with gusto.

“See what?” Lena raises an eyebrow, “You know, you really need to quit being so cryptic.”

“I will be as cryptic as I please until you start paying attention!” Magica jabs a shadowy finger towards her chest, “The boy, he knew I was here, don’t you realize what this means?!” Lena frowns with feigned ignorance, Magica deflates. She sighs, “He. Has. Magic. Lena.”

“So?”

“So? _SO_?!” Magica expands, filling the already dark TV room, her eyes glowing dangerously, “So,” She goes back to how she usually was, “That means that it will be harder to get the dime from McDuck.”

“How?”

Magica groans, “I’ll explain while you’re walking home.”

A chill of sorts washes over Lena when Magica says that, a pit of disappointment forming in her stomach, “We’re… We’re not staying here?” Lena’s mouth goes dry as her aunt’s eyes narrow and she crosses her arms, “…Huey said it would be fine if I stayed the night, right? So…”

“You don’t want anyone overhearing our plans, do you?” Lena frowns, Magica continues to glare at her, leaning in uncomfortably close, “Do you, Lena?”

Lena ducks her head, “No…” Lena knew, of course, by all means– she could stay. It wasn’t like Magica could make her leave, but the dread curling in her stomach told her she should go.

“Then let’s go,” Magica says with an urgency that Lena didn’t really understand.

–-

Lena trudges with begrudging steps down the sidewalk towards the abandoned amphitheater, it was already dark out and it was a long walk. Resentment swirls heavy in her chest as she waits for Magica to start talking.

“We need to keep an eye on the boy,” Magica says eventually, the shadowy sorceress clearly still deep in thought.

“Why?” Lena asks, not really bothering to hide her sour attitude.

“Watch your tone,” Magica growls, Lena rolls her eyes, “Anyway, because he’s a threat now, don’t you see that?”

“He’s, like, 10.” Lena says, scoffing lightly at her aunt’s paranoia, “And he just got his magic, right? He won’t know how to use it by the time the eclipse happens.”

“Perhaps!” Magica says, “But. Perhaps not, they may teach him.”

Lena stops in her tracks, “What could they possibly teach him, Aunt Magica? Even if they do, he’ll only have a couple months practice! What difference does that make?”

“Tone!” Magica snaps, swirling around her, “Now, listen here you little whelp, I felt it. He’s a threat whether you think so or not. He has a chance of ruining everything before it even has a chance to begin!”

Lena stands her ground, crossing her arms, “Why? Because he felt your presence once?” Magica opens her mouth but Lena interrupts with gusto, “And their Uncle Donald can use magic, too! Isn’t he a threat? Doesn’t he have more of a chance of ‘ruining everything’?”

“Oh believe me, I am worried about him being there, I’ve clashed with him before,” Magica settles into a more calm demeanor, “However, he can’t sense me the way the boy can. At least, not as quickly.”

Lena rubs her chin and continues her walk, “You just have to not talk to me while he’s around, it’s easy.”

Magica groans, “See? You don’t get it.”

Lena doesn’t say anything, instead giving Magica a confused look.

Magica sighs, dragging a hand down her face, “Okay, let me try to put this in simpler terms for you to better understand,” Magica forms her hands into an odd shape, “They went to a temple, yes?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Yes. Now, this temple it moves,” Magica shifts her hands, “Changes shape. It doesn’t have a proper name, or the inhabitants won’t give it to outsiders at least, the unhelpful simpletons.” Magica glances at her, “Are you following this?”

“Yeah. You’ve barely said anything.”

Magica sighs, “Look, maybe it’ll be better if I showed you.”

“Wha–” Lena starts but her vision turns to fuzz.

 

* * *

 

A couple weeks after returning from the temple,

Huey tiptoes lightly down the hall on a lower floor of the manor, the little red gem orbiting around him like a very tiny moon. Every few steps, he looks behind him and sighs contentedly when he sees no one there. He reaches the window at the end of the hall, opening it with ease, as if he’s done this dozens of times.

Swinging out of the window, he climbs quickly down the ivy that snakes gently up the sides of the manor, jumping down when he gets a bit lower. It was dark out, approaching midnight and he trots across the lawn, enjoying the smell of the grass. Reaching a small side gate, he tests it, finding it locked. Huey rubs his forehead in frustration and instead of bothering to go back and get something to pick the lock with, he climbs the wall, jumping down the other side when he reaches the top.

He observes his surroundings, making sure no one had seen him, and takes off for the hill he liked to watch the stars from, and occasionally fall asleep on, though he usually didn’t mean to do that.

\--

“Hey, Duckworth!” Dewey calls to thin air, though the ghostly butler in question appears a moment later.

“Yes?”

“You seen Huey? He left our room a while ago, but…” Dewey wasn’t too worried, though he found it odd for Huey to just up and vanish. Huey was the one that didn’t usually get into trouble, that was his job. Duckworth thinks that over for a minute, like he wasn’t sure whether or not to tell Dewey Huey’s whereabouts, though Dewey knew he must’ve seen something.

“Yes, I’ve seen him.” Duckworth says and Dewey stares at him for a long moment, willing him to elaborate. Duckworth stares back before continuing, “He went out of a window on the second floor.”

“Out of a window?” Dewey says, though mostly to himself, he had a bad feeling in his gut though he wasn’t sure why. “Thanks!” He calls as he takes off in the general direction of the stairs, not bothering to go and change out of his pajamas or get Louie. Time to find out what Huey’s up to!

\--

Huey had found his hill relatively easily, disregarding minor setbacks. Now he had the gem in his hand, ‘drawing’ in the air with the red magical glow. The glow was particularly beautiful at night and Huey found himself sneaking out at night more and more often to test it. It wasn’t like he could do this in the manor’s yard or in the manor itself, it was as if Uncle Scrooge could smell magical power and promptly barred the use of it the first time Huey got caught messing with it. Though Scrooge couldn’t take his gem away, even if he wanted to, it was bound to him.

It was odd, it wasn’t like he was firing magical blasts and really, he couldn’t even remember how he had done that in the first place. In the back of his mind he wondered if there was something Uncle Donald and Scrooge weren’t telling him. He, unknowingly, causes the energy to bristle at the thought of them not telling him something he should know.

He wanted to know everything about magic, wanted to know more if he couldn’t know everything. Wanted to know how it worked, how certain things factored into it, why his magic was different than Uncle Donald’s and why he had such a different feeling when he used it. Why he felt at peace when Uncle Donald used his magic and why he felt warm and energized when he used his. He wondered if magic had more of an effect on the user than what he was told.

Huey was getting worked up, though not necessarily mad– upset, perhaps. He’d been upset for a while. He could figure it out himself if they really weren’t going to tell him anything. That’s right! The best way to learn was through experience.

Huey focuses, outstretching his arm, he draws a circle in the air and wills it to stay. The red circle stays as he focuses on it, looking like fire floating mid-air. He moves his hand through the middle of it, the center warm. He closes his eyes for a split second, trying to conjure up a blast or shield much like the ones from the temple. Though it doesn’t go the way he intends or expects. Huey opens his eyes as the glow travels up his arm, over his head, and the rest of his body. Then, suddenly, the expanse of it is sucked up into his face. He pauses for a moment, not really reacting to what just happened, and he didn’t need to; he didn’t feel any different.

Huey’s shoulders sag, giving a mild sigh, that didn’t tell him anything. He holds out a hand and this time just tries to fire a blast from his hand, yelping in surprise when he actually does, the small blast flying off into the distance. Praying that it doesn’t actually hit anything, especially not something flammable. Huey wasn’t going to be responsible for a forest fire. Not for a reason like that.

He aims towards the sky this time, specifically the moon, and focuses on that. Make it bigger this time. The energy builds up and up and up, and as Huey feels a bit of triumph, the energy escapes into him once again. Huey’s throat closed up and he coughs. Dropping to his knees, smacking himself in the chest with the hope that it would help. It doesn’t, really. He hacks and coughs and abruptly the red glow spills out of his mouth as if it were liquid. He scrambles to his feet, eyes wide and panicked. He blinks rapidly and his eyes start to water to the point he almost can’t keep them open. He rubs at his eyes, eventually managing prying them open enough to realize that the magical energy was pouring out of his eyes as well as his mouth and was starting to come out of his nostrils as well. _What did I_ do _?_

Huey starts to tremble and drops to his knees once more. Coughing from the abrupt movement, and the magical energy seems to lodge in his throat as he does, though he didn’t think that was really possible, but he could feel it in his throat. Feel it coming out of his eyes and nose. It felt like he was going to throw up. Huey brings a hand up to his face. Trying to think about how he was going to get home like this.

“Hey! Huey!”

Huey lifts his head and turns fast at Dewey’s call. A miracle? He could definitely call this a miracle.

“Dewey!” He chokes out, his voice rough to his ears, and that one word makes him puke. He coughs roughly when he’s done and scrambles to his feet without a second thought, ignoring the way the magic streams down his face without breaking like endless liquid strings, grabbing Dewey by the shoulders. “Dewey, go… Go get Uncle Donald! Hurry!” It hurts to have to say so much right now but Dewey was his only hope of fixing this. And it needed to be fixed as soon as possible.

Dewey’s eyes are wide when Huey’s eyes meet his and Huey really couldn’t blame him. He probably looked absolutely wild right now. With glowing red stuff leaking endlessly out of his face and all. But, Dewey doesn’t hesitate long.

“R–right!” Dewey says, turning and running as fast as he can back the way he came.

They weren’t that far from the manor, but even still, Huey was certain he couldn’t go the whole way himself, especially as he dissolves into another coughing fit.

\--

Donald awakens to the sound of someone pounding on the houseboat’s door. Wondering to himself how they hadn’t noticed him in the pool, floating on an inner tube.

“Uncle Donald!” That was Dewey, sounding panicked, the young boy is quick to realize Donald wasn’t in the houseboat and soon his head pokes out over the side, his eyes wide, “Uncle Donald!!”

Dewey disappears from his line of sight and Donald soon spots him running down the ramp that lead from the deck to the edge of the pool. Dewey skitters to a stop in front of him, his breathing heavy.

“Huey! Huey needs help!” With that Dewey takes off without further explanation.

It only takes a moment for Donald to process what Dewey said and he sits up fast, tumbling into the pool. He pulls himself out of the pool, completely drenched, wondering why he ever thought sleeping on an inner tube was ever a good idea, he knew he would do it again anyway. He gives chase in the direction Dewey ran, spotting him as he runs out of the front gate.

Donald catches up with him fast as they run into the forest. What was Huey doing out here? The further they go, it strikes him suddenly. A massive wave of magic washes over him and Donald speeds past Dewey, who gives an indignant “Hey!” No, no, no!

Donald charges up a hill and spots Huey, how couldn’t he? His poor boy was surrounded with magic and vomit, coughing his lungs out.

“Huey! What happened?” Donald asks and winces when Huey looks at him and the reality of the situation hits him.

Donald knew. He knew that certain people who could use magic had to expel the excess energy sometimes and he wished at this moment that he had told Huey that and taught him how do to so safely. But, this– this was excessive. This was way more magic than he thought a duckling could even hold. It made him wonder if Huey was simply producing magic faster than he could expel it. That was the only thing he could think of. In a way, Donald was glad Huey wasn’t expelling the extra energy more… violently, but at the same time it hurt to see him in obvious pain and the way the magic was leaking out of his eyes and nostrils made Donald’s eyes water.

Huey seemed to be having trouble talking and eventually settles for a pitiful whimper as Donald moves forward, not caring what he might be stepping in; scooping up and cradling Huey in his arms.

Dewey finally catches up, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees, “What’s… wrong?” He asks somewhat breathlessly.

“I’ll explain when we get home, we have to hurry.” Donald says, and he trots as gently as he can down the hill. He hears Dewey sigh and start after him.

“Is Huey gonna be okay?” Dewey asks, concern evident on his face as he falls into step besides Donald.

“Of course!” Donald pauses, looking at Huey. The flow of magical energy seemed to be grinding to a halt for the moment, “… I think…”

Huey coughs. The energy was starting to leak again, though not quite as excessively than before. Huey shrinks into himself, hugging his arms close to his body, looking utterly miserable.

 

* * *

 

Magica runs her hands down her black dress, wiping dust and debris away. Well. That hadn’t gone as planned. She stares listlessly at the ruins of her cauldron, her spellbooks. The walls charred black. Running a hand through her hair, then over the sleek white feathers of her arm, she turns on her heel and begins to pace.

“What now?” She grumbles to herself, pulling at her hair.

“You know you can’t just _make_ a dark magical artifact, right?” A voice cuts through her frustration and only makes her more angry.

“Then, what do you suggest I do?!” Magica stops her pacing and turns with a huff to the doorway.

Her brother gives a helpless shrug, “I dunno. Go get one? Or give it up. You shouldn’t be messing with dark magic, anyway. It’s bad news.”

Magica makes a noise of disgruntlement, “What kind of De Spell are you, anyway? It’s the family business, we’ve always used magic, dark or otherwise!”

“Well, yeah, but you need to be more careful is what I’m saying,” He takes off his hat and shakes it out, “If you keep trying to make a dark artifact, you’ll permanently screw yourself up.”

Magica scoffs and pushes past him, she puts on her coat, pulling the hood down over her face. She grabs a few other things and stomps to the door.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“I need to replace my spellbooks. And I’m going to find a dark artifact, since you’re so adamant that I go get one,” With the last few words said in a particularly mocking tone, Magica clenches her fists at her sides and steps out into the cold drizzle of rain, slamming the door behind her.

Behind her, she hears a faint shout of “Aren’t you going to clean this up?!”

Magica laughs humorlessly to herself and starts walking, only to stop several paces away from her house.

“Where am I supposed to find a dark artifact?”

Soon enough, Magica was pacing outside, in the rain, 15 or so yards from her house, grumbling to herself under her breath.

“The Sumerian Amulet would probably be easiest to acquire…” Just break into a museum! A perfectly good jewel of dark magic would be in her hands just like that! How she would get home was another story, they probably wouldn't allow a woman who had just stolen a museum exhibit on a plane, especially one going out of the country.

Magica hums to herself, “Oh! But what about… No.” She gives her head a quick shake. It likely wouldn't bond to her of all people. Oh, but what if it did? Wouldn't Poe be so proud? It would prove so much, that she had the ambition of the greats! Righteous intent at heart, though she knew her goals were anything but righteous. She sighs. It would never, if the stories about it were true anyway.

That was a thought that spurred her into action, the Sumerian Amulet could wait! She had to try! Even if the effort was very likely to be entirely fruitless.

An hour later, she was boarding a plane, soaking wet and not even having the luxury of a change of clothes.

–-

Magica stumbles over the third root in the past 2 minutes and very nearly yells in pure unadulterated rage. Why. In the world. Do they plant themselves out in the middle of nowhere?! She wasn't dressed for this! A temple of immense magical power and knowledge and they hog it all for themselves. Simpletons. Whelps. Utterly wasted out here in the middle of some jungle.

Eventually she finds herself trudging up the steps of the temple, feeling about as perturbed about having to climb stairs as she had been walking through the damned jungle. Zero improvements to her mood had been made and that only made her regret this trip even more.

At least the temple dwellers were a bunch of dolts who couldn't hide themselves in any meaningful way, they had been beyond easy for her to track. A child could find them with ease. It was like they thought making themselves inconvenient to get to was the same thing as hiding themselves away. It wasn't!

As she reaches the top, she spots a couple of extravagantly dressed guards, “Great,” She mutters under her breath. She _had_ been hoping to sneak in, but it was too late for that now.

“State your business,” One says gruffly, fixing her with a firm glare.

“Uh,” Magica searches her head for an excuse, she clasps her hands together, “I was hoping for… er… a tour… of your fine temple.” She gives a small laugh.

“No outsiders.”

Magica feels a twitch, her smile faltering, why did they ask her to state her business, then?

“No?!” Magica gets in the face of one of them, “Do you know who I _am_?!” The guard she’s facing gives a slight shake of the head, his expression not changing even a fraction, “I’m a De Spell! You hear that?! I am a powerful sorceress!”

The two guards whisper to each other for the better part of a minute while Magica seethes. Eventually they turn back to her, “We do recognize your name, De Spell. What is it you want here?”

 _That’s more like it._ Magica straightens up proudly, “I was looking to learn the history of the… ah,” She stops, rubbing her beak, what was it again? That’s it! “The Crimson Jewel.”

One narrows his eyes, “You aren’t planning to take it, are you?”

“No, no, of course not!” She says, “I merely want to learn more about it, if the stories are true. Is it true it only becomes bound to those who have righteous intent?”

“Yes.”

“I… I see!” Well, this was wasted, but it may be in her best interests to learn as much as she can, “If it would be no trouble, could you tell me more about it? Maybe allow me to see it?”

The guards glance at each other, “Fine, but you must not wander off, and if you try to take or succeed in taking the jewel, we will have to kill you.” Magica feels a chill run up her spine as she follows them into the temple.

“Why?”

“Well, not only would you be breaking our agreement, the jewel will not release its bond with its host until they die. Or the bond is severed through divine intervention.”

To Magica that was a strange piece of information. Why only in death does the bond sever? Was the jewel incapable of breaking? “What happens if it breaks? The jewel?”

The guards stop, turning to look at her, they stare at her in silence before turning away and continuing forth. Magica blinks, then shakes her head, following close behind them. As they walk through the temple, Magica looks at the walls, noting quickly that it was a language she couldn’t recognize. She thought she had known most, if not all, magical languages, but this one didn’t ring any bells.

In a way, it frustrated her heavily, the idea that so much information could be kept away from her. She didn’t really want to admit that her reason for this frustration was entirely selfish.

They enter a large sprawling room, filled with unimaginable artifacts, spell books, and the like. Magica wasn’t really one for studying, but even still she wanted to look through everything this room had to offer. As soon as she starts to stray off course, one of the guards grunts at her to continue following them. She groans angrily. Part of her wanted to burn this room down, just to spite them.

They lead her to a pedestal upon which sat a frighteningly _small_ red gem. Magica’s eyebrows furrow. That thing’s what they would kill her for stealing? The Sumerian Amulet was 10 times its size. Maybe more. This little jewel couldn’t possibly rival the amulet, could it?

Magica points at it, looking incredulously at the nearest guard, “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Magica, without thinking, lets out a laugh. An almost angry laugh. “That thing? I’ve heard so many stories about it!” She gestures wildly, “Like it was grand and all powerful! And you’re telling me it’s _that_?”

“It’s more powerful than appearances may suggest. Follow.” The guard turns away, gesturing at her.

And soon Magica was being lead around, shown feats that hosts of the Crimson Jewel had–-

 

* * *

 

When they got back, Uncle Donald had fixed the issue of Huey’s overflow of magic pretty quickly, although Dewey wasn’t sure exactly _what_ he did. He had followed it by explaining in simple terms that Huey was having trouble using his magic. As it was with someone who had just unlocked it. But, Dewey felt that Uncle Donald might have been holding back on something. Something he didn’t want to tell them. He just had that feeling in his gut.

Once Huey seemed to be fine, Dewey was hastily shuffled out of the room, he glances back, meeting Huey’s eyes, then he dips his head. They both knew what was happening next. Once Dewey was out and the door shut, he jumps when Uncle Donald suddenly yells. Standing there, Dewey listens quietly, though he didn’t understand what was being said, rubbing his upper arm. Part of Dewey wanted to burst into the room and admit to being at fault somehow. He knew that Huey would not only object to that, it would also get him in trouble in a different way.

Dewey also knew that lately, Huey was frustrated, particularly with Uncle Donald and Scrooge. And he couldn’t blame him, Dewey was frustrated with them, too, albeit for different reasons pertaining to not being told certain things. Huey, however, was more open about it than Dewey was. The past few weeks Huey would occasionally lament about how their uncles won’t answer his questions or teach him anything.

Saying, “How am I supposed to learn how to use this, if they won’t teach me?”

It didn’t seem fair. Not to him. It didn’t seem fair to keep things from them. From him or Huey. And to be honest, Dewey wanted to learn more about how magic worked, too. Huey had excitedly told him everything he knew so far, and it only made it more obvious that Huey was upset, an edge creeping into his voice when he spoke about something he didn’t fully understand yet.

Eventually it all came to a head with Huey admitting to Dewey that he was frustrated, _upset_ , with Uncle Donald and Scrooge’s bizarre secrecy, when Dewey had asked if he was okay. That had happened last night and look where that secrecy had taken them?

Dewey knew why Huey was in trouble, why Uncle Donald was upset with him. At the same time, Dewey knew it wasn’t fair. Curiosity gets the better of him, he turns around and opens the door just a smidge and peeks in. Uncle Donald was saying something as he paces around the room, rubbing his temple. Huey was still where he was when Dewey had left. His head ducked in shame and hands buried in his lap. Dewey frowns.

“Why would you do that?” Uncle Donald says more quietly, “Huey, you know be–”

While Dewey had a feeling that Uncle Donald knew what he had done wrong and was likely saying that from a place of worry, it was still the last straw for him. Dewey bursts into the room.

“Uncle Donald! That’s– That’s not fair!” Dewey shouts, and pauses to think over what he was going to say, looking at Huey, whose eyes were wide and shiny, “He… He only snuck out because he was frustrated!” Dewey felt bad, outright saying what Huey told him he was feeling, like he was breaching his trust, but he knew that’s what Huey would probably do. Dewey’s hands clench into fists at his sides.

Uncle Donald stares at him, “What do you mean?”

“You and Uncle Scrooge… aren’t– Uhhh…” Dewey looks at Huey, his eyes asking the question of whether he should continue; Huey just smiles, almost gratefully, Dewey smiles back, “You aren’t _helping_ him, yeah.” Dewey says, turning back to Uncle Donald.

Uncle Donald’s face contorts into guilt, he looks at Huey, who stares back at him, “… I–I know.” Uncle Donald rubs the back of his head, he sighs sadly, “It’s just… An odd subject.” He closes his eyes, shoulders sagging. He opens them a moment later and kneels in front of Huey, “I’m sorry. I’ll try to teach you how to use your magic, okay?”

Huey stares at him in a brief moment of shock, before realizing what he was just told, “ _Thank you!_ ” Huey practically leaps forward and hugs their uncle, who hugs him tightly back.

“Now, get to sleep.” Uncle Donald says, kissing Huey on the head. He stands up, leaning down briefly to give Dewey a kiss as well as he leaves.

Once Uncle Donald was gone, Dewey sits down next to Huey, “You all right?” A lot of thoughts were rolling through his head.

“Yeah.” Huey says, smiling quietly, “Thanks. You know… For doing that.”

Dewey shrugs, “We’re brothers. We defend each other. And... tell each other everything…” Dewey frowns at what he said, he glances at Huey’s cheerful face, maybe it was time he told the truth, “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

Dewey heads back to their room, and rummages through his stuff, careful not to wake up Louie; returning to where Huey was a few minutes later. Huey perks up at the blue-tinted sphere settled in Dewey’s hands. Dewey plops down next to him and sighs, rolling the somewhat hefty orb around in his palms. Huey waits.

Dewey takes a deep breath, “This is the Sphere of Selene. I got it, with Webby, on Ithaquack.”

Huey leans into him, looking intently at the Sphere, “What does it do?”

“It has memories on it. Of mom.” Dewey closes his eyes for a moment, waiting for a reaction, although one never comes, he looks at Huey. Huey’s eyes shone in the dim light of the room.

“Of… Mom?”

Dewey nods, nervousness tight in his chest, “Me and Webby have been trying to find out what happened to her. I’m sorry, I should have told you and Louie sooner than this.”

“Yeah. You should have.” Huey whispers, there was only a hint of anger to his voice. Huey hugs him, “I’m glad you told me.”

A weight felt like it had been lifted off of Dewey’s shoulders, “Really?”

Huey pulls away, his hands still resting on Dewey’s shoulders, “Yeah. It’s… It’s better you told me late than have Louie and I find out what you’ve been doing on our own.” Huey’s face turns serious for a split second, “Just… No more secrets.”

Dewey smiles wide, giving a light laugh, “Yeah! No more secrets.”

Huey leans back against the couch, Dewey following, “So, what have you and Webby found out so far?”

Dewey frowns, “That’s the thing. Not much. All we got was this,” He holds up the Sphere of Selene, “On Ithaquack. Selene didn’t know anything.”

Huey rubs his chin, “Why did you think she would know something?”

“Well, she was Mom’s friend,” Huey nods, willing him to continue, “We thought, maybe, she would know something. Anything!”

“How did you know that?”

“Well, we _didn’t_. Not until we met her.” Dewey stares at the shiny blue curve of the Sphere, “But, when we went to the archive in the Money Bin, we found a secret room. It had all kinds of stuff relating to mom. Most of it didn’t tell us anything, but, there was piece of paper there. A sketch of something. Called the _Spear_ of Selene.” Huey’s eyebrows raise and he nods, giving Dewey his full attention, “We couldn’t take it with us, Mrs. Quackfaster probably would have stabbed us or something. ...I took a picture of it.”

Huey leans back in surprise, “Stabbed you?”

“Yeah, it’s… A long story, she chased us with a sword.” Dewey shakes his head at the memory, the people Uncle Scrooge hired were something else, “So, anyway, Webby thought that maybe, since Selene’s name was in the name of that _thing_ , that she would know something.”

“And she didn’t,” Huey finishes, he frowns to himself. “Any other leads?”

“Yeah. One. Something Uncle Donald and Scrooge were saying in the temple,” Dewey shakes his head and stands up, “We should talk about it with Louie and Webby tomorrow. I’m super tired.”

Huey laughs, “Yeah. Me too.”

The next day, Dewey theatrically kicks open Webby’s bedroom door, which was already open a crack, his brothers following after him, rolling their eyes, “Webby! You know anything about Mt. Vesuvius?”

 

* * *

 

3 weeks later,

Huey’s gem had been set, by Scrooge and Uncle Donald, into a specialized ring to keep it from floating freely around. How it worked, he didn’t know for sure. He was fiddling with it, turning it around in his hands, not quite used to something hanging around his neck.

“Hey, Huey! We’re going to the park, let’s go!” Dewey calls, gesturing excitedly at him when Huey looks at him.

Huey smiles and follows.

Once they had gotten to the park, Louie had plopped himself on the nearest bench, and Webby was busy going up and down the slide; that is, running up it then sliding back down over and over. Huey couldn’t see Dewey from where he sat on a swing. Soon he hears a battle cry from behind him and Dewey runs up, jumping onto the free swing, and swings high into the air. Dewey jumps off, doing a backflip before Huey can do anything to stop him– and lands unceremoniously on his back in the soft sand.

Huey leans forward a bit, raising an eyebrow, “You okay?”

“Yep,” Dewey squeaks, sounding like he hadn’t quite caught his breath just yet. He pulls himself stiffly into a sitting up position and Huey quickly hops off of the swing to help him to his feet. Dewey stands there for a moment; catching his breath as Huey carefully brushes sand and leaves out of his feathers, “I think… I think I’ll ask Webby if she wants to play on the seesaw.” He says eventually.

“Okay,” Huey laughs and pats him lightly on the back. As Dewey runs, slowly, off, calling to Webby, a shadow sweeps over the park.

From his bench, Louie sits up, looking around in confusion. He looks at Huey and calls, “Is it going to rain?”

“I don’t think so!” Huey calls back, the shadow was really only covering the park, it likely wasn’t rain clouds. He could see the sun shining on the road in his direct line of sight. Louie shrugs and goes back to browsing on his phone.

But as Huey looks around, he starts to realize that this was weird. It wasn’t all that cloudy _before_. The more he looked at the shadow the more a tight feeling of dread formed in his chest. The cloud should have moved on by now, right? It was breezy today! Huey looks another way, noting the cloud only actually covered the playground, not even the park. And his throat closes up as he becomes aware of the unnatural shape of it. And the fact that it was shifting in strange ways; Huey whips his head up to the sky and– That’s no cloud.

Huey’s eyes widen as Dewey shouts, “What is that doing here?!” Huey’s gaze shifts to Dewey, who was no longer on the seesaw and was instead laying on his back once again. Huey’s eyebrows furrow in confusion as he wracks his brain in an attempt to figure out what had happened there.

“Oooo! What is that?” Webby squeals excitedly, causing Huey to remember that she hadn’t gone with them the first time to the temple.

“That’s the temple we went to a month and a half or so ago,” Louie tells her, joining them by the seesaw, “Not sure what it’s doing _here_ , though…”

“Me neither,” Huey says as he joins his brothers and Webby. But, that didn't mean he didn't have an idea about why it might be here.

As the kids stare up at the temple, they all spot two figures as they leap down from the far edge, landing a fair distance away in the grass. As they approach, Huey sees Webby drop into a slight fighting stance out of the corner of his eye and he wonders to himself if that was the best course of action.

The two people stop at the edge of the playground, keeping their distance to a degree from the kids.

The larger of the two speaks first, his voice deep and serious, but oddly flat, “We've come to retrieve The Crimson Jewel.” He fixes Huey with a sharp gaze, “If you cooperate, no harm will come to you or your family.”

Somehow, Huey didn't believe that, not for a second.

“How do we know you'll keep your word, though?” Dewey says, stepping forward by just a fraction.

“He stole it.” The smaller of the two people says, taking an aggressive step forward, “This doesn't have anything to do with you, anyway!”

“He didn't steal anything. The gem just came with him!” Dewey retorts and technically he wasn't at all wrong about that.

The serious one lets out a long sigh, “Just… Come with us, we’ll take our jewel back and you'll be returned to your family.”

“Huey's not going anywhere.” Webby says, her voice low. “Right?” She adds, giving a sidelong glance towards Huey, who gives the smallest of nods.

“See?” Louie says, “He doesn't want to go with you so give it up.”

As the serious one rubs at his face in frustration, the aggressive one lets out a yell.

“This doesn't concern you, boy!” They shout, firing a magical blast, it strikes Louie in the abdomen before any of the kids can react.

“LOUIE!”

Dewey scrambles over to Louie to check on him. As he speaks quietly with Louie, Huey and Webby turn back around to face the temple dwellers.

“You!” Huey clenches his fists, “Why would you do that?!”

The serious one sighs angrily as Dewey rejoins Huey and Webby, “Guess we're doing this the hard way.” He meets Huey's eyes and brings up a hand, “I need you to be quiet.”

He snaps his fingers and Huey drops.

\--

Webby stares in horrible confusion as Huey very suddenly goes from angry to unconscious at the snap of that man's fingers.

She drops to her knees and shakes his shoulder, “Huey? Huey!”

While she was trying to wake Huey up, Dewey steps between them and the temple dwellers, spreading his arms as far as they could go.

“You aren't taking my brother.”

“Move.” The serious one says, he sweeps his hand to the side and, much to Webby's surprise, whips Dewey away, sending him all the way to the swing set. Dewey hits one of the swings and tumbles to a hard landing.

Now it was Webby's turn and she moves fast, she leaps into the air and aims a punch to the large man's face. He sends her back easily and although she manages to catch herself somewhat she still lands hard, knocking the breath out of her lungs. As Webby scrambles to her feet the aggressive temple dweller fires a blast and Webby soon realizes she doesn't have time to dodge it.

Time seems to slow as Webby contemplates the idea of getting hit directly in the face with pure magical power. She wondered what it would feel like and-- _Huey?_ At some point, although she could only see him out of the corner of her eye, Huey had gotten up. But when?

A blur of a hand enters Webby's line of sight and bats the blast away as if they were playing a simple game of tennis. Webby sucks in a sharp breath of air as the blast is returned to its owner and knocks them off their feet.

Huey's hand drops back to his side and Webby stares at him, “Thanks,” She says, placing a hand on his shoulder. Huey doesn't respond as he usually would, “Huey?”

“Stupid girl!” The one on the ground calls and as they speak Huey shakes himself out, his feathers visibly puffing out, “That isn't your friend!”

“Wha-” Webby starts, but is interrupted.

“Yes, it seems the jewel has taken over,” The one still standing says, “Likely as some kind of defense mechanism.”

Webby tilts her head and steps forward, leaning in front of Huey to look at his face. She leans back just slightly in surprise of what she sees. Huey's eyes were wide open, but they really didn't look how, well, normal eyes would. They were various shades of glowing red, swirling and mixing like galaxies. In a way, it was pretty, in others it was unnerving. In addition to that, Huey's face was set in an expression that Webby would at first call blank but as she searched his face, she had begun to think it was instead set in an expression that she simply couldn't place.

“We have to kill him.” The one on the ground says simply, at some point while Webby wasn't looking, they had sat up. Huey puffs out his feathers once again. Webby wanted to ask why he did that but she really didn't think she would get an answer.

“Unfortunately,” The serious one starts, and Huey zips forward.

The man yelps in surprise as Huey yanks him down to eye level, his free hand charging up with bright red. With one swift motion, Huey lets go and delivers a magically powered slap across the face. As one temple dweller goes down, the other steps in and blasts Huey back to where Webby stood.

Huey slides none too gracefully to a stop and drops briefly to his knees. The smaller temple dweller follows through and Webby works on instinct. Her foot connects with their face, sending them sliding through the sand.

Huey's head turns oh-so slightly towards her and his hand comes up almost shakily, curling into a small thumbs up. She smiles brightly at him. His expression unfortunately doesn't change too much.

“I'm tired of this.” The larger temple dweller says flatly, he had closed the distance while the two were distracted. As he attempts to sweep Webby away, Huey fires a blast at his face, forcing him to dodge. Webby takes that split second to knock him off his feet.

She shouts as Huey grabs the back of her shirt and yanks her backwards, another magical blast zipping mere millimeters past her face. She takes a deep breath as the two of them take several steps back. At some point Huey had gently grabbed her hand.

Webby wondered in the back of her mind; did regular old Huey shine through sometimes? How exactly did this work? Were the jewel's actions while in control influenced by Huey's personality? She stares at him, brow furrowed, as if that would answer her questions. Even still she drops into a fighting stance and doesn't let go of his hand. They weren't taking him _or_ killing him. No matter what.

The serious temple dweller pulls himself to his hands and knees, spitting sand out of his mouth. While Webby was focused on him, she could see Huey beginning to glow more clearly in her peripheral vision. The man's eyes widen when he looks up and he's on his feet in an instant.

“We need to go.” He says simply.

“I was already leaving.” The other calls, limping away almost pathetically. “I'm not dealing with that kid losing control.”

Losing control? Webby straightens up and whips her gaze to Huey, his feet no longer touching the ground and his magic sparking violently. Ignoring anything else the two people had to say, Webby leaps up against perhaps her better judgment and wraps her arms around Huey's waist to try and pull him down.

Dewey runs up, having regained consciousness and grabs an arm, “Huey! Calm down!” Louie joins them a split second later and does the same, his hoodie and feathers burnt up around the stomach area, Webby could see a tiny bit of blood in her brief glance.

“Huey!” She calls as the temple vanishes from overhead and just like that Huey goes limp in her arms. Webby falls backwards at the sudden dead weight, bringing Dewey and Louie with her and Huey.

As calm settles around them, Louie speaks up, “We gotta carry him home, my phone broke. And Dewey didn't bring his.”

Not much else is said as the kids all nod to each other and begin carrying a sleeping Huey home.

 

* * *

 

For Lena, the vision of Magica’s past or whatever you wanted to call it, had started to fizzle out and she wakes with a start to a police officer with curly hair shaking her shoulder, she leaps to her feet and backs into a wall, staring in confusion around her. When did Aunt Magica learn to do _that_?!

“Are you alright?” The officer asks, “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“Yeah, I’m fine!” Lena says, smiling. “I’m almost to my house.”

Before the officer can say anything else, Lena takes off running. The officer shouting after her. Once she loses her, Lena slows to a somewhat sluggish walk the rest of the way to the Amphitheater.

“So, why are you so scared of that little gem again?” Lena says once they get there, “You didn’t seem all that threatened by it in that flashback or whatever.” Lena rolls her eyes when she says the word flashback.

“Well, we didn’t quite get to the point, now did we? Because of that meddlesome policewoman.” Magica mutters, seeming more grumpy about it than she really needed to be.

“Why didn’t you, y’know, just skip to that part?”

“You would’ve been wondering how and why I was there!”

Lena sighs, “No, I wouldn’t have! You could’ve just gotten to the point, we didn’t need to watch you blow up your kitchen that one time 20 years ago!”

Magica grumbles under her breath, Lena doesn’t quite catch what she says, “I’ll just simplify it then. You know why I feel so–” Magica gestures mockingly, “‘Threatened’ by that tiny little gem? The jewel the red one has in his possession, I’m shocked they even managed to leave with it!”

“Get to the point.” Lena groans.

With a huff, Magica expands to cover the Amphitheater in an inky darkness, the glow of Magica’s eyes the only light source, she raises her voice to levels that were probably unnecessary, “ _The Crimson Jewel has been_ **_stained_ ** _with blood for centuries! It’s imbued with powerful dark magic, Lena!_ ”

 

* * *

 

Huey wakes up with a gasp to find that he was in bed at home. Confusion washes heavy over him, hadn't he been at the park with his brothers and Webby? They'd been attacked. Louie had been hurt. Huey runs a hand through his hair and slides down the bunk bed ladder.

He stumbles sluggishly as he treks to the bathroom, which seemed farther away than before. Although that was likely exhaustion speaking than anything else.

When he enters the bathroom, he washes his face before really looking at his reflection in the mirror. And when he does he lets out a loud, startled shout.

\--

Donald had been heading up to the boys’ bedroom to check on Huey. That plan had changed abruptly when he heard a scream that sounded an awful lot like Huey and Donald was now scrambling as fast as his legs would carry him.

As he rushes past the bathroom, he realizes somewhat late that the door was ajar. Turning around, he bursts into the bathroom and stops cold. Huey was standing there, still in his pajamas, leaning forward over the sink. Pulling gingerly at the skin and feathers around his eyes.

Donald stares at him for a long moment and the second he starts to says something, Huey turns to look at him. Donald's words die in his throat and his blood runs cold.

“Uncle Donald…” Huey starts, his voice cracking horribly with fear, “What's… what's wrong with my eyes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super late, the delay was mainly due to a combination of writer's block, lack of motivation, and being busy with other things!


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